


The Coffee Prince

by PerpetualSpinster



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Coffee Shops, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-05-16 17:37:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 57,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14815812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerpetualSpinster/pseuds/PerpetualSpinster
Summary: Stuck in your ways of living, one day at the coffee shop, you run into a tall dark roast that threatens to wake you up from your romantic hibernation.





	1. Chapter 1

You are a notorious homebody; your laptop, bed, and streaming sites are all you need make a Friday night litty titty and you took pride in your introversion. Growing up, school is all about who you know, what clique you are a part of, what parties you get invited to, clothes you wear, etc. It was tiring on your psyche back then, and some complexes had formed due to all of that keeping up the the jones’ crap. Nobody has time for that when you’re an adult, so you fully enveloped your true hermit lifestyle. Then this nigga comes along, 6’0, adorable accent, beautifully crafted body draped in the finest clothes. Intelligent, with a crooked smile that could light a fire underwater.

Y’all first met in line waiting to get coffee. You had your headphones in, common defense to make sure no one fucks with you on a regular basis. Once you made your order, you stood off to the side waiting for you order. He was next but when the barista had a look on her face that was completely confused and more than annoyed. You let one earbud hang as this intrigued you, especially since this was a white barista and a Black man at a Starbucks you had to make sure everything was cool, for the culture. By the time you had an available ear, he was waving his hand at the exasperated worker and walking toward the area you stood.

He looked at you for a moment as he made his way over, and you gave that tight smile that said ‘I am friendly but don’t expect anything more than this smile’, instinctively. He nodded in your direction and stood about five feet from you.

“Order for…..” the male barista squinting at his own writing. “Uhhh, caramel macchiato, double shot?”

“That’s mine! Thanks!” you stepped up to the counter to pick up your drink, but checking him out your fellow patron in your peripheral. You turn to take a quick sip and steal a glance at the same time, noticing him giving you a sideways smile before saying, “You too, huh?”

His accent caught you off guard for a second before you computed what he said. It wasn’t hard to comprehend, but it’s very noticeable.

“Oh, yeah, I get this drink all the time. Not like I’m here everyday, but…”

“Order for Thomas!” the male barista says loudly.

He walks up to the counter grabbing his cup. He goes over to the side table to pick up some sugar, napkins, and a stirrer. You follow picking up some napkins, before he begins again.

“I mean the barista; he has a problem reading your name. He didn’t even try.” He says as he add the sugar.

“Yeah, which could be a blessing or an insult. But I’m used to it.” You both share a sip of your caffeinated concoctions.

“But what was the problem with your name? Was she not able to get past your accent or something?”

“What accent?” He said, with a serious look.

You almost choke on your coffee when he said this. What accent? Did you just strike up a conversation with one of those people that went into a coma and woke up talking different? You would get the cute and crazy type of nigga.

“Umm, I don’t know…” you stutter.

He looks away laughing to himself, “I’m only kidding. My apologies for startling you.” He says with a slight bow to you.

You nod in return to him, “It’s ok, I’m pretty damn gullible at times. Good one!”

He smiles down at his cup, “Thanks, but my accent was not primary issue, no. It was my name, like you. So I just gave her the name Thomas to move things along.” he says bringing the cup to his mouth again. You notice the length of his fingers…and no ring.

“Ah, I’m always nervous about giving a fake name. Like, if they check my card and it isn’t the same they’ll question me or refuse service or something.”

“Oh, I didn’t think it would ever get that serious; it’s not a military base.”

You give a side eye, “How long have you been in America?”

He smiles, nodding, “I’m learning new things everyday. But it’s been a little over a year now.”

“Are you from an African country?”

“Yes, a small village near the central, eastern part.”

“Nice. That’s so cool to know where you’re from, ancestrally. It seems like everyone reps their set. But I still can’t get past the Southern states.”

He nods, checking his timepiece next to a beaded bracelet around his wrist.

“Oh, I’m sorry, if you need to be somewhere. I’m not usually talkative with strangers.”

His mouth goes agape for a moment, “Well I don’t think we could call ourselves strangers. We are bonded by the oppression of our caffeine dealers who refuse to look us in the eye or remember our names.” He holds his cup out and you meet his to cheers. You feel a jolt when your finger brushes his.

“But I must confess that I do have other engagements to attend to, so please forgive me.”

“No, no problem at all, I’m needing to get back to the office. But see you around!” You do a quick about-face and walk away quickly after that, giving no time for a response.

Once you made it down the street, your heart palpitations start to subside but now the self deprecation begins. Why did you talk so much? And the worst part, all that conversation and you’re left with more questions than answers. Where in Africa is he from? What did he do for a living? Him telling you he had a prior engagement was your way in! OR would that have been too nosy? No phone number, or an attempt to get one. Y’all were highkey vibing and you got no questions in to gage his status or if he was willing to see you somewhere else. And the biggest sin: What the hell is his damn name?! Thomas was a fake name. But the conversation never led to the real one, or yours. You can’t even look him up! And who the hell knows when you’ll see him again, so good job.

You text your friend when you get back to your office.

_**Girl! I ran into this fiiiiine man at the coffee shop.** _

A few minutes later she responds, _Yaaaass! Did you talk to him?_

**_Child, yes. I don’t know what got into me._ **

_Well hopefully him in a minute. What did you say to him?_

**_Lol, I thought he was being racially profiled so I am really in his business but it turns out the coffee girl couldn’t understand him. He’s kind of foreign._ **

_Oooh, that foreign though?? Where he reppin?_

**_Somewhere in Africa, I didn’t get a country._ **

_The motherland? Was he wearing them sandals and shit?_

**_I didn’t even notice! I feel like I would’ve if he was but idk._ **

_Well which country is he from?_

**_Idk! I know I shoulda asked but I was caught up, not thinking straight._ **

_Well, is he light skinned with good hair or nah?_

**_Ok, now don’t ask it like that. He not light skinned but his hair was beautifully trimmed._ **

_Ok, so he probably right on the equator then. Well look at you, tryna get you an African King lol did you get the number though?_

**_Noooo, so I don’t even know if I’ll see him again girl. I fucked up!_ **

_Lmaooo, GIRL! Well, don’t worry about it. One thing about coffee shops is that they get regulars often so you’ll probably run into again but don’t be obsessive…_

**_Truuuuue, if it’s meant to be, it will be. I don’t get obsessive though._ **

_Girl, you already planning your future for a practically imaginary relationship, I know you! Lol Keep it together and live your life, but this was good practice for you._

**_Yeah it was. I never approach guys but this was exciting!_ **

You put your phone down and finish up your afternoon reports. But the thought of “Thomas” was still in the back of your brain. He was soooo cute to you, but with your track record he could’ve easily been gay, taken, or just being nice with no other intentions. But the universe owed you a win. It had been so damn long since you had a thing to go to your friends about.

At the end of your shift, you go straight home, kicking your shoes off at the door.

“Hey Tavia!” You yell to your friend who is cooking something you wish was your meal in the kitchen. Smells like some chicken or spaghetti thing.

“Wassup Queen Mother! I was going to get rose petals but they too damn expensive for a joke.”

“Right, don’t try it!”

You make your way to your room, closing the door and taking a much needed breath. You kick off your pants and and shirt, swan diving onto your bed in your undergarments. The stress of the day just melts as you lay there and breath in your lavender and peppermint scented air from your oil diffuser. You slowly peel yourself up from your covers and load up your laptop. Checking your social media and queueing up some music as usual, you look around your room. It’s completely cluttered with clothes from the week piled in the corner. Your hamper is overflowing, as well as your trash. Suddenly, you feel a sense of purpose, cleaning and straightening your hoarding mess. When your shuffle hit a bop, the clean up became especially fun as you sang along and shook that thang as you picked through dirty clothes and maybe-one-more-wear clothes.

Now that you have some order to your area, you have space that you didn’t have before. Looking around with pride, you catch your reflection in the mirror, draws and all. You touch your stomach, tracing the dark brown stretch marks that crack through your skin around your concave belly button. Pushing down on your love handles, you iron out the folds to be smoother from your waist to your hips. Your breasts are of a decent size as far as the numbers game goes, but the do not sit perkily in front of you, and a cleavage still takes effort to achieve since they sit apart from each other. Dreadfully, you turn sideways to check your body from the profile. Your belly hangs in front of you instead of flat like you’ve always prayed for since childhood. The deep fold from your back to your side sneers at you. Your ass isn’t non-existent but if only your waist was smaller, that could make those hips and cheeks really pop.

You had been giving yourself mantra pep talks on a regular basis to keep toxic thoughts from entering your brain. You look up at the notes lining your walls. “Keep your head up.” “You are a Warrior.” “You are beautiful.” You get it, people have told you the same things before, it’s just hard to convince yourself that you’re not imagining things.

Your mind still wanders on about your day. When would you see something that fine again? And if you do, the fuck are you going to do about it? You start up your shuffle of bops and make your way to your closet. You were going to curate some outfits to be a dick magnet. No way in hell there’d be a question of his interest once you see him again. Go over some lines in your head to break the ice, figure out how to touch his bicep in mid-conversation, shit like that. It would work, he knows who you are…facially anyway. You just gotta run into him again.

Next day, you make your way out the door a little early. Making your way to the office, you get a head start on making your calls so you can make your way to the coffeeshop. You put on a navy blue pencil skirt with a gold zipper going down the back. You layered a mesh lace blouse over a black cami and black pumps. You usually stick to flats but today was the first of many for change. If it wasn’t “Thomas” someone was gonna get a look at this new fit! Opening the door, the bell jingles, announcing our arrival to the patrons. You look cooly over the people in the shop, but no one was there you care to see. Making your way up to the counter, you make your order and stand to wait. You pull out your phone to mindlessly entertain yourself for a minute, looking p periodically to survey people entering. Every jingle of the bell made your heart jump.

“Order for Tom!”

You look up a little too quickly but are disappointed when some balding white men in cargo shorts picks up his order. You have had enough, you almost walked out right then when your order gets called: the order, not your name. Nearly out of breath from stress, you pick up your drink and leave in a rush. Breathing in the outside air, your heart rate begins to slow in pace again but you have got to get back to work. Fuck that shop, and fuck this mission. You already missed your chance so what is the point of it all. Going back home, you have a cloud over your head. You throw your clothes over to a pile on the side and flop onto your bed. You deserve happiness, you deserve love, but don’t get wrapped up in fantasy.

You still go to the coffeeshop the next day, but that was for a snack because you didn’t give yourself time to fix yourself breakfast. Still no Thomas.

You don’t go back to the shop the rest of the week, You can’t go broke over a crush, plus, you had really no other reason to go so, you stopped.

By next week, you feel a lot better about yourself and your blood pressure isn’t skyrocketing at the thought of entering the shop anymore. You didn’t go in depth with Tavia about your problems since meeting Thomas because even if she gave the perfect encouraging friend response, you’d die of embarrassment for feeling so caught up on nada. She was only slightly right: you lowkey obsessed over that 5 minute interaction and broke down the details or what you did right and wrong. It was terrible, and you knew it, so no need to be reminded.

You got an email about a happy hour promo at the shop, so you decide to go cash that in. It’s a Wednesday and it’s been an especially trying week. You need to wash your hair, so you have them pulled back in in two struggle braids. Simple cardigan over a white tank and black slacks with your trademark flats. You pick up your order and sit on a nearby stool to catch the free wifi signal and download your favorite podcast to listen to back at the office.

“Order for Thomas!”

You are unphased and not listening when you get up and see this 6’0 man picking up his drink and turning towards you. He makes his way to the side table, and your heart literally stops pumping for a split second from the anxiety. He hasn’t seen you yet and he could easily leave very soon without your acknowledgment, What if he doesn’t recognize you? The L’s you could take outweigh the dubs by a mile.

You get up to go get an unnecessary sugar packet.

“Excuse me,” you say.

He looks to you and gives you a crooked smile.


	2. Chapter 2

“Ahh, how are you today, Ms. Macchiato.” He says while stirring his coffee.

You spontaneously start ovulating at his title for you. He remembered your order, and made it a pet name for you!

You smile goofily as your heart threatens to fall out of your chest, “Yeah, that’s me! How have you been….Thomas?” Your voice rises an octave as you coyly played like you couldn’t remember one of the few things tied to him from your one engagement.

He furrows his brow at your statement. “Ohh, you must have me confused with some other American coffee drinker.”

“Oh? So that accent makes you from where, Boston?”

You both laugh. Your mouth is getting dry from anxiety, so you sip your drink.

“Gah! Fuck!” You sputter some of the liquid down your chin, tongue hanging out fanning it. The drink was scalding hot still.

‘Thomas’ gets a napkin and hands it to you, concern clouds his face.

“Are you all right? Should I go get you some water or…”

Heated with embarrassment noe more than the coffee, you shake your head trying to speak clearly. “It’th fine, thankth.” You say with a scalded tongue.

“Please, sit a moment. I’ll be right back.” He touches your arm to guide you back to a table and makes his way to the register. You keep fanning yourself, mortified by your not so graceful behavior.

“Ok, come on, get your thit together. You are a queen goddeth. Anyone would be lucky to dick you down proper.”

You take a deep breath and look off to one side and see an old white woman shaking her head looking at you. Of course that last sentence would come out clear as a bell, but you gave her a look of ‘and?’ while she continued eating her oatmeal.

‘Thomas’ comes back with cold Fiji water, cracking it open before handing it to you.

You take it in you hand with shock clearly displayed cross your face, ‘Thomas’ sits down across from you and notices your expression immediately.

“Is something wrong with it? Is something in it?” He leans to look at the bottle clutched in the hand.

Why did he have to be so cute when he scrunches his face with worry? You snap out of it and try to relax again. “No, it’th juth uh, you know they have free water cupth, right? Like, you didn’t have to pay for one”

He waves his hand in protest, “It’s nothing. I mean, you don’t need lukewarm tap water, this is better for you.”

You say before taking a sip, “Well that was very thweet of you. I owe you one.”

“Don’t worry about that. I can’t standby while you’re in pain. Though, the temporary speech impediment is kind of cute, I must say.”

“What do you mean? Thith ith my real voice. I wath juth trying to impreth you with perfect diction last time.” You say, blowing your coffee, batting your eyes.

He chuckles, “Right, and I’m from Boston.”

You smile and look out the window for a second. The high you feel from being in his company makes it hard to come back down to the reality that you have to make conversation, and you’re suddenly lost for words. You want to know more about him but don’t want to come off as nosy or interrogative, or too eager, though you could smile at him giddily all damn day But this is a cute guy, who is clearly attentive, splurging on some fresh H2O. Ask him something! Get some personal shit out the way!

You face him to see his round, gorgeous eyes looking at you. You can’t read his expression before he looks down at his coffee again.

“What is your name, by chance? I don’t think I got it before.” he asks before puckering his lips, that look like they’ve never known ash, to take a sip.

“Oh, it’s (Y/N)” you say.

“Ah, (Y/N) that’s a beautiful name. It doesn’t seem too difficult to me.”

You practically melt at him saying your name. You’d never want a different one long as those lips spoke it.

“Well, it shouldn’t be. But people sense something has more than 2 syllables and their mind just flips.”

“Does it have any meaning behind it?”

“Mmm, not that I know. I’d have to Google. But all I know is my mom just liked it. But what about you, ‘Thomas’?” You say with a goofy grin, resting your chin on your hand.

“Yes, my name is T’Challa.”

“T….Challa?”

“Yes, that’s right! First try!” He holds his hand up for a high five.

The world seems to go into slow motion when connecting your palm to his. His hand is a skyscraper compared to yours, trying to memorize the feel of his hand through the little contact you had.

“What can I say, I’m a pro!”

“Very nice. Impaired tongue and all!” He pauses a moment before continuing, “Have you got time for a walk around to get some air? It’s so beautiful outside. May be nice…”

You look at your phone and see you should've been back at your desk 15 min ago.

“Uh… actually I do need to go…”

“Bast! Well that’s ok. Maybe our paths can cross again in the future?”

Your face fallen, “Yeah, hopefully so. Thanks again for the water…”

You start to get up and leave, “Ah, Miss (Y/N)?”

You turn to him, “Mhm?”

“Do you think I could call you sometime? If it’s not too forward, we could arrange meeting outside of your work hours so it’s more convenient?”

You heart jumped into your throat at the proposal. He’s asking for your number!

“Sure thing! I would love that. Just let me know or I’ll call you whichever. Cool!”

You back up to leave before you add anymore positive phrases to your long phrase affirming his invitation.

You step out the door of the shop and do a little Tiffany Haddish ‘she ready’ dance. You couldn’t wait to fill Tavia in on the details. T’Challa, T’Challa, the name just rolls off the tongue.

“Miss (Y/N)! I thought you trying to dine and dash but …”

T’Challa was standing behind you for God knows how long, struggling to hold back his smile.

You straighten up, mortified. Could he possibly be any more handsome and you be anymore a dork?

“Oh, no. Um, what do you mean?” you stammer, folding your arms to look semi-normal.

He pulls out his phone. “We actually need each others numbers to call each other right?”

You still didn’t exchange numbers! Thinking of how much of a mess you are you say, “Yeah, sorry! Of course, allow me.”

You take his phone and type it in with your name saving it.

Handing it back, T’Challa takes it and puts it in his pocket, eyes never leaving your face as he gives you a closed mouth smile.

“You have a good rest of your day, (Y/N). I look forward to connecting with you soon.”

He turns and strides down the sidewalk away. As much as you hated to see him go, you loved watching him leave. Was the dip in his gait put on or natural? Either way, you loved it.

Later that day you go home, light as a feather. You lowkey hate how some male attention could give you such an array of hormonal bliss that you felt like a traitor to the sisterhood.

Your roommate hadn’t gotten home yet so, you take the time to cook yourself some food, even though your hunger was honestly minimal. Whenever you got really excited in any emotional direction, your appetite just goes south. But you earned a meal today, so why not celebrate with dinner. You look up a bookmarked recipe on your phone for some baked chicken with steamed vegetables and curl up to some Grown-ish as you work. The episode with Yara Shahidi’s character obsessing over the relationship status of her and Cash was queued up. Seeing her send literally 30 text messages to Cash saying an unintelligible number of things made you cringe hella heavy. Why would she get caught up with a college athlete anyway? You knew where this episode was going, as you turn back to seasoning your food.

While binge watching, you only eat about half of your food, which is better than nothing. You have more energy than you know what to do with though, so with the extra living room space, you decide to knock out a little yoga to center yourself. Laying out your mat and queueing up YouTube you switch to a yoga channel for beginners and put a chill playlist on shuffle. You close your eyes as the instructor tells you to be present in today’s practice, breathing deeply and exhaling equally. The practice started off simple enough with some cat-cows and downward dogs, but the intensity picked up soon once some planks and chair poses were thrown in. You perspired like a Pinocchio meeting a woodpecker but pushed through each pose with a little motivation in your head. If T’Challa could see me now. Each challenge you faced, you thought of him being under you while you planked, over you while you did a bridge. Once the poses were over you’d curse yourself for being so silly but hey, it worked.

During the cool down, the instructor tells you to get into happy baby pose, which you welcome with a deep sigh, wiping your brow. You didn’t expect such an intense workout, so luckily you didn’t go ham on your food.

You hear the lock turn on the door, and in walks in Tavia.

“Well damn, bitch, am I interrupting something?!”

You look between your legs at Tavia, “Nah girl, I’m almost done.”

“You sure? Cuz looks like you just getting started to me. Why are you spreading your legs for anyone who walk in here?”

You roll out of your pose, grabbing your water. “Nothing, it’s been a minute since I got my mat out so…” you say taking a sip.

Tavia takes a seat in a easy chair across from you, taking off her shoes. “Mmhm, so what else is it bitch, cuz the fact that you ain’t posted up here smashing some cookies, watching Chocolate City or some other trash got me almost concerned.” She says, faking her best concerned face.

You roll your eyes, “It’s nothin! Really, but I mean, I may have ran into someone today, but that’s not why I’m over here ‘pussy poppin’’ like you say.”

“Uh-uh. How juicy is this? I was drinking tonight anyway but lemme know should I grab my bottle right now?”

You look at her sideways and give a slight nod.

Tava screams like the Holy Spirit just caught her as she runs with her hands raised over to the fridge. She gets out her moscato and runs back to her seat.

“Uh, I don’t get a glass?” You ask offended.

“No ma’am, you got talking to do. You can’t talk and drink at the same time.” Tavia says with a tongue pop.

“ANYWAY, so I’m going to the coffee shop on my break, right?” You say excitedly.

“Right, ‘break’.” Tavia says clutching the bottle while doing air quotes.

“Listen, plenty of them folks go and do whatever on company time. I need some caffeine to get through the mess.” You say defensively.

“Whatever, continue!”

“Ok, so I’m getting my shit, and just as I’m bout to leave, HIS order gets called.”

“Who??!”

“Thomas!”

Tavia’s body melts into the chair as she exclaims, “Whaaaaa??”

“YES! By the way, his name is T’Challa.”

“BITCH, you talked to him??”

With a little dance you confirm, “Hell yeah, fucking right!”

Tavia gets up to do a quick celebration twerk with you, passing the bottle. “Go head girl! Ok, so how did you go up to him? What did he say?”

Your face hurt from all the cheesing, “I just walked past him and he was like, ‘Hey, don’t I know you?’ and I said, ‘I hope so, cuz trying to know you.’ And eventually he remembered, so we got a table and talked about real surface level stuff, then I told him I gotta go back to work, so he was all ‘Well, I can’t have you walk out here without seeing you again. Put your number in.’ So I did, and that’s really about it.” You say content with your ‘story’.

Tavia was on the edge of her chair during your entire explanation until she said, “You gave him your number?”

You nod proudly, “Mhm!”

Tavia throws her hands in the air, “Girl! You ain’t gonna be nothing but a booty call then.”

Ou screw your face up at this admission. “Whatchu mean? He ain’t hood actin’, I just gave you the clipped version of how it went down. Why you think that?”

Tavia sighs, “You gotta get his number, so you have control. But since it’s the other way around, you gonna be waiting for him to call, and then when he does at 11pm, you gonna be showing off your wingspan and upset cuz he ain’t called you since.”

“Tavia, calm down. It ain’t even been a day. I’m not tryna wild like that, and he don’t seem the type.” You say with less spirit than before.

“And if that’s what you wanted, you know I’m down for you; hit a split on the dick shawty act up! But I know you for real want some committed peen, so I’m just giving you worst case before it slaps you in the face, ok?”  
Your good vibes from earlier are coming down faster than guillotine so you decide to dismiss yourself.

“Don’t be upset girl. You still did your thing, and milk him for all it’s worth either way. Hate the game, not the player!”

You roll your mat up and go back to your room. Your eyes go straight for your phone. You think back to the articles you read on dating. People usually wait 3 days to call right? Or is that just after the first date? What’re the rules for the phone exchange? He could’ve texted you right there to have his number, but he didn’t so, could Tavia be right? And if she was, is it so bad? Dick is dick, and it sure hasn’t been present in your life.

You go to pick up your phone, opening up to the main menu.

**Missed Call (1) Voicemail (1)**

Your heart thumps in your chest as you check the number. It’s just digits, not one of your known numbers. You walk across your floor couple times before listening to the message, calming yourself down and for the first time hoping it was just a bill collector. You select the number and dial before closing your eyes to center yourself like the yoga instructor told you. A few rings pass before you realize what you may have done.

“Hello?”

Your pulse literally stops as your eyes fly open at the voice on the other line. You accidentally hit call back instead of call voicemail.

“Miss (Y/N) Is that you?” T’Challa says.

“Yeah, hey, how are you doing?” You say in as steady voice you can muster as you pull at your hair in frustration.

“I missed you earlier. Uh, your call, I mean. Well, I called you. Did you get my message?”

So that was him on that voicemail. You didn’t want to lie but you didn’t want to look weird calling without context either.

“Uh, yeah. I did. Thanks for calling by the way.”

He could’ve called to say he didn’t want to see you again.

“Please, I should be thanking you for offering your time. So do you know when you would like to do it?”

Heat crawls from neck to your cheeks, out of your pits, from your nani, all at once. Do what?! Is he inviting you somewhere or asking a favor?

“Uh, how does Saturday sound?” You freeze at the anticipation of his answer.

“That’s great! I have no problem with that. We will try for 5pm?”

You nod like he can see you before responding, “Yeah, that’s good to me. I can’t wait.”

You could practically hear T’Challa smiling as he said, “Wonderful. Forgive me for the time of the hour, I hope I didn’t wake you.”

You sit on the bed to keep from falling under your buckling knees. “Not at all, I was just turning in so I didn’t want to leave you hanging.”

“You’re too kind. I will see you then, if not at the shop first! Good Night (Y/N).”

“Good night T’Challa.” You press the red symbol and take the deepest breath you’ve done all day. How erotic did that sound ‘goodnight, T’Challa’? Geez just call him back to come over and get it over with already, you thought.

You turn off the light and lay in your bed electrified with that same energy from before. You almost forgot, but you pick up the phone and push for voicemail this time and listen:

_Hi, I hope this is the right number. (Y/N), I’m just calling to see if you would come with me to the music festival this weekend. I don’t know if you heard about it or if it is your thing, but it sounds like a nice time. We could just walk around, enjoy the sounds. Uhh, just let me know when you get the chance, or I may see you at our favorite place. (laughs then clears his throat) Umm, but yeah, sorry for the long message. This is T’Challa by the way. Hope to hear from you soon._

Your phone prompts you to save or delete the message and you carefully save it before you listen a couple more times. Putting your phone away you turn on your side, squeezing your legs together to bring yourself back down again. You remind yourself that this is still just nothing more than two people meeting up at a public place with a bunch of other people. No one has claimed nobody yet. But like Tavia said, gotta milk it for what it’s worth, and how you feel right now is pretty damn priceless.


	3. Chapter 3

You had today on your mind every minute up until now. When you woke up for work, you felt fully rested and eager to get through the day. Not even the worst attitudes from customers could dampen your high from getting that call from T’Challa. What a name, a melody of possibility in your head whenever you thought about him. You purposely avoided the coffee shop just to make sure to keep anticipation at its peak. You felt so silly thinking about it. Tavia told you not to get too excited because it could still not count as a date yet. The music festival was a 3 day bender, with hundreds of people attending. She thought something so large and public wasn’t something a dude would choose if he is trying to choose you, in her nicest opinion. You took her advice with a grain of salt, but one thing that couldn’t be denied is that he wanted to spend some time with you and that’s that on that!  
The day of your date, you put yourself through nothing but self-love and self-care to get yourself in the right mindset. Your playlist of bops hype up your spirit as your Aztec healing clay mask dry whilst you diy’d a mani-pedi for yourself. Rinsing your face of the dried clay, you feel reborn, giving yourself kissy faces and posing to the beat of your jams. For your hair, you had to go back and forth with yourself on what to do. Your hair was currently in two-strand twists, so should you let them down, showing off all you defined curl beauty? But it’s hot, so maybe a top bun or a faux hawk type of style could fit the festival vibe. Or maybe save some time and step up the glam with one of your colorful headwraps. Would he be offended, like you’re trying to be too into his culture or…  
You decide to go for a half up, half down do. Taking down your twists you pony your hair right on top of your head, spreading your curls out, leaving the other half to flow freely down the nape of your neck. You put in some hoops, and some shorts to show off your most prized possessions. You thank God and your mother for your gams. A cool patterned tank and your gold gladiator sandals, you feel about ready, taking a glance in the mirror. Your curves looked more ready than you felt as you checked the denim hugging your hips, the glint of your epidermis taking up all the attention. You were a little self-conscious about having your thighs rubbing together or the shorts riding up, but those thighs were getting some attention today, so to hell with that! Your tank was loose with large holes for the arms so your bra showed in places, which you loved cuz it was a cute one and them titties were sitting proper. Your phone notifies you of your Lyft outside. You get your crossbody bag and head out.  
Closing your bedroom door Tavia sitting in the living room in a big old t-shirt and bonnet, eating some hot chips, watching the TV.  
“Hey girl. You look dope, wow.” Tavia said deadpan, without even looking your way.  
You click your tongue, “Why you playin? You didn't even check me out. How I look?” you say with a twirl.  
Tavia looks back at you. “Mhm, definitely catching somethin. You shave?”  
“Yeah, moisturized, the works.” You say looking your legs over.  
Tavia waves her chip at you, “Nah, nah. Did you SHAVE though?” She asks, wide eyed, sucking the hot red dust off of it comically.  
“Girl! Ain’t nobody tryna smash tonight! What’re you taking me as?”  
“Well damn, why not? Listen, you walk through here with some carnival game prize bigger than the door, imma assume he got some head.” Tavia says.  
“Shut your ass up! I’m gone. I’ll text you the danger phrase if this goes awry.”  
“That’s mama’s baby! Good Night!” Tavia says throwing up the peace sign as you walk out.  
The ride to the festival felt like a cross country journey. You took the time to recheck your make-up, fan yourself from sweating since the driver seemed to not believe in A/C. You went through different scenarios of greetings. Hey! Wassup? Hi, how are you doing? Funny seeing you here! You fan yourself again trying to calm down, feeling idiotic with every minute. Maybe it wasn’t the lack of air that was the issue.  
Your phone beeps, probably Tavia hyping you or humbling you one last time.  
_I’m here, outside the entrance when you get here :9_  
The symbol at the end of the text message was not something you were familiar with, so hopefully it's not a blatant sign for something. But you hopped in your seat a little. ecstatic at the message. T’Challa was early, AKA on time and waiting for you! God, what better way to have a man: ready and waiting. And the only acceptable occasion for them to come early.  
The car pulls up in the parking lot a few yards from the hoopla and you thank them as you get out. Rows of cars lined the lot and the makeshift grass-converted parking area. The cacophony of noise you here from the distance welcomed you as you walked down the sidewalk toward the welcoming banner until you saw him. T’Challa paced slowly to and fro, looking up towards the sky, hands behind his back. He dressed very comfortably, in a dark green buttoned down short sleeve shirt with some embroidery design on the front, accentuating his ample shoulder span. T’Challa’s forearms were reporting for that duty, with biceps on deck. Your pace feels slows as your feet become weights pounding the pavement. Your nerves get to you as your mouth dries out. Mixed with the summer heat, and you were officially the epitome of thirsty. You try to have a proper strut down before he notices you: confident, bouncy, baddie.  
T’Challa glances and finally sees you and a smile appears instantaneously on his face as he freezes in place to observe you coming up. You try to hold your smile down as much as possible. You don’t want to give him the upperhand of seeming too eager but damn, he looked fresh. Within talking distance, you exchange greetings.  
“How are you, (Y/N)?” T’Challa asks pleasantly.  
You nod humbly, “I am great, thanks. How about you?”  
“Much better now. You look amazing this evening.” T’Challa says with a quick glance over you. Not even in a sleazy way, just like he truly appreciated your style, the apples of his cheeks practically popping off his face.  
You start fanning yourself, giggling almost uncontrollably. “Aww, I know I look a lot different outside my work clothes. I can’t compare to these arms you decided to let out the house today. Where you been hiding them?” You say, turning up the flirt a little so he knows it's real.  
T’Challa chuckles at you boldess, “Ahh, stop it. My sister suggested this shirt. I wondered if she was setting me up for something.”  
“Mhm, for a thirst trap definitely. But it’s great.” You’re so starstruck. “Uh, your text had an odd symbol at the end of it. What does it mean?” You pull out your phone and show it.  
“Ahh, I meant a smiley face. I;m not the best texter unfortunately, so typos will happen.” He puts his hands in his pockets anxiously. “Are you ready to go in?”  
“Yup! Let’s hit it!” You say excitedly. T’Challa gives the ‘after you’ motion with a wave of his hand. Once y’all make it inside, you feel overwhelmed with the crowds of people walking through, dancing, talking. You get caught up in the scene, your mind fades out not sure what to tackle next.  
“Do you want to walk around?” He asks over you.  
You turn to see him waiting on your answer. Your introversion was coming back strong.  
“Uh, yeah. Sorry, let’s walk.”  
Walking down the way you pass through see a couple acts performing. Nothing really bumping in the section you guys are at. You check T’Challa in your peripheral and he is just looking around, not saying anything. There is so much you could say but you don’t know the precedence to say it in. The worst thing about dating for you was the talking and getting to know each other.  
“Do you know any of the acts that were performing today?” T’Challa asks you.  
Shit, you thought. You didn’t even research anything about this festival. That would’ve been a great ice breaker.  
“Uh...no. I didn’t. This could’ve been a country music hoedown and I’d be none the wiser.” you say pitifully.  
T’Challa nods, “So, not a fan of the twang vocals of cowboys and saloon girls? What music do you listen to?”  
You shake your head smiling, “Not ‘cowboys and saloon girls’ though! But those kinds of questions are too hard to ask! I listen to so many kinds, I can't devote myself to a genre. Even country sometimes, even though I lowkey trashed it just now. It has to be done right, white people always take it and bastardize it.”  
“Blues, jazz, rock n roll…” T’Challa lists.  
You say with a clap, “Exactly! We get stuck with the short end of the stick, erased from history.”  
“I feel similarly. I am spoiled by my country’s sound. I have other artists that I enjoy but I stick to a certain group of them.”  
“Any that I heard of?” you ask.  
He thinks a moment. “That's the thing too, I'm not good with names! I enjoy the art and almost entirely ignore the person creating it.” You look at him incredulously. He puts his hands up in surrender. “It’s bad, I know. But I enjoy a lot of old school acts, R &B, soul. And of course local bands from Wakanda.”  
“You will have to let me listen to some of your music then.” You say, suddenly shy again. Did that come off too strong? Too eager, as per usual.  
T’Challa makes a subtle grunt noise, stopping next to you, “Oh, so you definitely want to see me after this, eh?” l  
You smile as your stomach does NOLA bounce routine. Trying not to answer right away, you fake a thinking pose, “Slip of the tongue, but we will see how the night goes.” you say teasingly.  
You guys walk past concessions and T’Challa offers to buy.  
“What do you desire?” he asks.  
Looking over the menu, you really hadn't worked up an appetite yet but you sure as hell was hot in the unforgiving humidity.  
“Just a slushie, please.”  
“Good choice. What flavor?”  
“Red.”  
T’Challa looks back at you confused, “And by chance, what flavor is red?”  
You roll your eyes, “Are you pushing your respectability politics off on me? Red is red, I said what I said.”  
T’Challa laughs at your antics, placing the order with the cashier. He gets one too, in blue. You both walk down the way, enjoying your treats.  
“Mm, this is so good. Thanks for buying.” you say as you eat the sugary ice. The coolness radiates through your body against the evening heat.  
“You don’t have to thank me. You’re too polite; I’ll have to fine you for your courtesies.”  
“Nooo, I’m poor, please!” you look to him with puppy dog eyes for forgiveness  
T’Challa sips from his straw as he mulls it over. “I’ll let you off with good behavior, for now.”  
“Too kind, my good man.” you say before sticking your red-dyed out at him in jest.  
T’Challa laughs at your action, “Your maturity is unmatched.”  
A bell dings nearby and a crowd erupts. One of those strong man meters is set up and is obviously a crowd favorite.  
“Hey, you think you could do work on that over there?”  
T’Challa checks it out shaking his head slightly unsure, “Ahh, I haven’t been to the gym in a while, I don’t know…”  
You look over at the worker passing a teddy to the patron, “Well, I want to at least get a consolation prize. I’ll give it a go. Hold this.” You hand your empty cup to T’Challa, strolling over.  
“Madam, would you like to take a crack at it?” The candy striped worker said, handing the mallet your way.  
“Damn right!” you say confidently.  
“You can do it!” you look behind you see T’Challa, beaming, holding up both cups. You square up and take a swing. No bell rung, and it didn’t make it past wimp, but the thrill was nice as you came out of your shell a little more.  
“Nice try, young lady, nice try. But no one goes away empty handed. For you!” the candy striped man gives you a mini plushie duck fitting the palm of your hand.  
“Thank you! It’s so cute,” You say, walking away smiling at the cute animal in hand.  
“Maybe it’d ring if she sat on it.” a nearby voice said.  
A white guy red as a beet sneers as you catch his eye, sipping his beer. You feel your good vibes disintegrate as he smiles pridefully at his joke, you. One thing that you haven’t been able to shake yet is how hurtful comments to your face about your weight can be. Remnants from your childhood made for a shaky foundation in your establishment of your worth. You knew these crowds would be an issue eventually.  
“You sir, you’d like a shot?” You didn’t even notice until he had the hammer in his hand, but T’Challa was at the game getting ready to swing down. The ball shot up the column, rang the bell like a thunderclap, and knocked the dome clean off of it.  
T’Challa looked over to the man in the crowd pointing the hammer his direction, “If you can only find confidence in talking down to others, I would suggest you lay your head right down here next time, so I can drum some sense into your brain, eh?” The white man was wiping his shirt, looking back at T’Challa all shooketh. He must’ve jumped out of his skin when T’Challa brought the hammer down.  
The candy striped guy picked up the dome of the bell, “Uh, sir, did you want your prize or…”  
T’Challa lays the hammer against the game, “Yes, my good man.”  
The worker handed T’Challa a large, plush black cat. T’Challa took it, striding over to you. Your heart swelled with delight as he handed it to you. Not been to the gym in a while, my ass!, you thought. Those arms, back, shoulders, with some thigh assist didn’t lie though. You hugged your prize close.  
T’Challa stood in front of you with concern, “Are you ok? I’m sorry if I acted out of turn.”  
You looked at him shaking your head, “Don't apologize, or I’ll have to fine you!” you say with a wag of you finger.  
“T’Challa smiled with relief, “He had no right to speak to you like that.”  
You sigh, “I’ve heard it before, and I’ve heard even worse.” You start to walk on as T’Challa followed. “It was hard for me to fit in growing up at first because of my size, so I was bullied early on. But I started beating people to the punchline and the bullying soon stopped.”  
“Do you ever believe the things people say?” T’Challa asked.  
“No, not all the time anyway. It’s gotten better since college. I look at a lot of body positive people online and learn some tricks to cope.”  
“(Y/N), I won’t tell you how to feel but anyone that talks about you with ill intent is either insane or not completely right up here.” He says pointing to his head.  
You gained comfort from the respite T’Challa gave you. “I know, and sometimes it's not even them. I can be my worst critic. But I know not to fall for the smooth talking Negros that like to prey on the vulnerable too.” you say pointedly.  
T’Challa looks to you mouth agape, “I don’t consider myself a smooth person, so I won’t take that as a warning to me.”  
“Oh please! You waltzing over to threaten the guy in my honor? Smoove. Buying me a water a while back to soothe my scalded tongue? Smoove. The fact that you even got me to talk to you? Smoover than smoove.”  
T’Challa laughs, “All right, enough! It’s not on purpose however. Certain traits become exemplified when I’m around certain kinds of people.” He looks at you smiling before looking on. You hug your cat tighter. Which cat you ask? WELL......  
T'Challa goes on, “and I'm no stranger to bullying myself.”  
“Oh?”  
“Yes, I have a very smart alek, very calculative jester for a little sister who has no end to calling out my uncool ways.”  
You laugh, “Little siblings are the worst. I know, cuz I am one, and we have that right!”  
“Bast, when will the tyranny end!” T’Challa calls to the skies.  
A stage nearby lights up with low glow blues and purples, yellows and greens. The a crowd erupts as the act is about to start up and you hear something familiar.  
“Oh my God.” You freeze in your place.  
“What is it?” T’Challa asks worrisome.  
“Do you know them?? Oh my God!” You say without anything else, running into the crowd as the act steps up to their mics.  
T’Challa trails you until you reach a stopping point.  
“Oh my God, The Internet! Syd! Oh my GOD!!” You scream waving around your plushie.  
Syd tha Kyd steps to the mic, crooning the crowd with her soft falsetto. You sing along right with her, enamored by the surprise. You look to T’Challa in all the excitement and you catch him smirking at you, nodding along to the music. You take his hand and raise it up to sway side to side on the track, the electricity you felt being a mix from your idols and the foine dime to the side of you. You booty bump him playfully to get him loose, he bumps you back. All worries are cast away as the songs envelope you both, each one drawing you nearer to him, hands clenched the entire time.  
Their set wasn’t long, but you guys stayed for the entirety of it as the night sky cast over the park, stars decorating the sky. The temperatures became bearable as the sun finally fell. Torches lit the way for you all to see and walk around. Once The Internet finished their set and the crowd dispersed, you and T’Challa start scoping for some grub.  
“Do they have any wings around here or cheese fries, or somethin?” you ask out loud.  
T’Challa looks over the vendors signs and points, “Ahh, your wish is granted! I’ll go ahead and order.”  
“Wait! I can’t eat wings AND cheesy fries, I was just playing!” You weren’t but you wanted to be a lady.  
“It’s ok, I’ll get both and we can split. I’ll be back!” Breaking from you, he walks on.  
You hold your plushie close to you as you wait. Looking around the park you think this would be a perfect picture moment for the gram. Pulling out your phone you see you have a text from Tavia.  
_Ummm, what happened to texting me to make sure things were good though, like…._  
You text her back. _ **I was supposed to let you know if things are BAD. No news is good news right?**_  
Going to the camera, you shoot some scenery shots. Looking over your options, Tavia texts back. _Well my bad! Ok, keep doin you boo!_  
T’Challa comes back with wings in one hand, cheesy fries in the other. God, you didn’t know what looked better: the food or him. And you were hungry regardless.  
“I got some waters too.” He said, handing you the fries so he could get the waters from under his arm.  
“Ooh, good thinking. Let’s find a spot to sit.” you say as you take down a fry. Walking into the park you find an unoccupied bench and sit. The faded music in the background was very chill, setting the mood. T’Challa takes a wing, eating the meat off. You absentmindedly watch his mouth chew as he ate. The muscles of his jaw masticating, his concentration to get every bit off the bone.  
T’Challa wipes his hands and looks to you, “You were amazing back at the stage.”  
You snap out of your trance, thinking over what he said, “Listen, I didn't do anything. Syd and them, were going off and they haven’t made a bad track yet. I’m only a fan.”  
“It was pretty cool to see you so free spirited. And I heard you a little. You have some singing in your background, eh?”  
You make a so-so motion with your hand, “I mean, a little bit. I’ve never done it for an audience but my shower is a long time fan of mine.”  
He laughs, “It’s really captivating to watch. I wasn’t sure how comfortable you were here, but the music brought out another side I really enjoyed seeing.”  
“Right! I appreciate you noticing that. I wasn't sure either cuz I’m such a homebody and then that guy. I still can’t wrap my head around you standing up for me that way either. I never had that happen for me.”  
“Oh, Bast! I haven’t had someone so endearing to do that for. He doesn't know anything about you, otherwise he would’ve dusted the ground for you to walk.”  
You laugh with your hands on your hips mockingly, “Well you haven’t even done that!”  
“I can't defend the Queen and clean the quarters!”  
You dismiss him with a wave of your hand. “By the way, I heard you say that before. What is ‘Bast’?”  
“Where I'm from that is a religious figure that some follow. A panther God.”  
You cock your head to the side in curiosity, “Ohh do you have rituals, symbolism, and things around it?”  
“Of course! Chants, dances, the works. Every religion just about does. Do you follow a Christian God?”  
You nod. “Mhm, Team Jesus right here.”  
T’Challa smiles, “Well, we have similar teaching just the practices stray off.”  
“I always wondered about what religion I would have, had it not been for, you know.”  
“Luckily my family does not know of that life, but I understand. God is all around us, comes in many forms in my opinion. I try to give honor wherever I am that things still grow, the earth still spins, things like that.”  
You look up at the sky overwhelmed with the sensations of a successful evening, “God, it’s so beautiful out.”  
He looks up. “The city sky does not compare to a Wakandan one, for sure.”  
You look at him, his neck stretched back wanting to touch it, “Tell me about it. Your home.”  
He leans back, resting his arm across the back of the bench. “Words couldn't do it justice. But just think about the most beautiful scenery you can imagine from nature shows, or pictures in a magazine. Then amplify it by one hundred.”  
“You still have family there?”  
T’Challa smiles to himself, “Yes. Mother, sister, and a bunch of people I consider family. It’s a close knit community”  
“Wow. Do you miss it?” you ask.  
“I do, all the time. But I haven’t thought about it once tonight.” Looking up to you, his eyes trained on your face. He says tossing a wing to the side, looking away in the distance again; clenching his jaws, resting his hands on his thighs. He looks nervous.  
While studying his face you notice a unique detail to his hairline. “You have the most adorable widow’s peak. Just look at that.” You reach over, stopping midway as he looks at you expectantly, “Do you mind?”  
He shakes his head. You lightly feel the curls that bunch to form this hereditary marvel.  
“I wish I had one. It adds so much character to one's appearance. Like you need any but it’s like a little treasure.” you say smirking as his curls tickled your fingertips.  
While touching it, you look at T’Challa who is focused on you, not saying a word. Mouth slightly agape, his eyes look to your mouth then back at your eyes. If there was ever a chance to kiss him, this was probably it.  
“Uhh, did you hear me, or…” you say trailing off and chickening out, moving away a little to ease the building arousal between you.  
“I want to compliment you now.” He says reaching for your hand, holding it. “Your eyes have an innocence that makes me feel unworthy to hold your glance. But I can’t help but to not look at you. You remind me of every beautiful trademark that makes a woman special. I could go on, but I don’t want to offend you. But I hope I can get to know more of you, so I can verbalize it properly.”  
You look down at his long, knuckley hand holding yours. “T’Challa I don’t want you to talk about me anymore.”  
T’Challa looks concerned, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”  
You stomach trembles inside as you try to find the words, “No, I know what you mean. But this is a lot for me to take in. I’ll say it’s been a while since I’ve been paid attention to like this, so it’s kind of overwhelming but…” you move his hand and inch closer. “I’m not a big conversationalist so I just want to...”  
Your lips find each other, softly embraced in a kiss made for fairytales. But you felt so much more than what the kiss portrayed: excitement, joy, aroused at the fact that his face meshed with yours so perfect. His hand found the small of your back as your hand caressed his face gently to ensure the reality of it all. Breaking away slowly you both stare into each other, high off on the clouds of infatuation.  
“Man, I dig you.” You say trying to break some of the romantic tension.  
He smiles, “And I dig you, umhle.”  
You smirk, “What that mean?”  
“Something you should be very familiar with: ‘beautiful’”  
“I could get used to that definitely.” you say, embracing him once more.  
As much as you could stay on that bench forever, it was getting late and the mosquitoes were being disrespectful. T’Challa offered to take you home when the time came, but you needed a break or you might invite him up. You car arrives and you hug him goodbye. His hands wound around your back firmly, you securing yourself around his shoulders you take a mental note of his frame, so comfortable and meant for you.  
“I had a great time, T’Challa,” you whisper in his ear.  
“The pleasure was mine, (Y/N). Let me know when you’ve arrived home safely?”  
You nod, giving him a peck on the cheek for good measure. You get in the car and he closes the door behind you, seeing you off. You hug your panther plushie tight to your face as you recap the evening. You were practically buoyant as you rode home, petting your prize tenderly, wishing it was T’Challa in your lap.  
Making your way to your apartment, you open the door to see Tavia knocked out on the couch, and even bigger mess of snacks surrounding her and the table as she snores. You slam the door to wake her up.  
She startles awake, looking at you squinty, “Well damn, What time is it?”  
“Maybe, midnight by now?”  
“Mm, decent hour, must not have given up the draws. Well go on and tell me about it” She wipes her eyes, getting a better look at you, noticing your plushie. “Uh-uh! You got a prize!! What did I tell you!”  
“Bitch, I didn’t suck his dick. I’ll talk to you in the morning.” you say feigning tiredness.  
“How fucking dare you! I aint get no sleep cuz of you, you aint gettin none cuz of me!”  
“Girl, you were just knocked out! Go to bed.”  
“But-”  
Good night Tavia!”  
You close your room door, tossing T’Challa Jr. on your bed. Kicking your shoes off, taking your hair down, you pull out your phone.  
_**Home safe!** _ You send to him. You put your phone down and unclothe to get comfortable. Suddenly a ding sounds and you dive for your device.  
_Glory to Bast. Sleep well, umhle_.  
You read it a couple of times before setting your phone back down. Laying down, you clutch your prized possession T’Challa won you to your chest as the day’s event float in your head: euphorically exhausted.


	4. Chapter 4

The next few weeks with T’Challa that follow are some of the best you have experienced in a long time.  You guys meet at the coffee shop from time to time when your schedules allow, and take evening walks to vent about your days and life, ending with sweet kisses before you guys part ways.  You can’t remember the last time you walked into work on cloud nine, but T’Challa seemed to be doing that for you now.

This day however was particularly tasking.  Your company’s online server was down, causing an uptick in calls from begrudging customers wanting answers on when their products would be available again to use.  The worst part was that your processors had no clue what the problem is or how long it would take to fix, so you try your best to white lie your way to keeping customers satisfied enough to keep from threatening to revoke their memberships.  Just before you are at your wits end however, you see your phone light up with T’Challa’s name calling in. T’Challa wasn’t a big texter; he likes to hear your voice and feels texting is too impersonal which you thought was quite sweet but could be inconvenient at times.  You pick up and speak in a low tone.

“Heyyy, Chacha, what’s up?”  You were still kind of trying to figure out a nickname for him.  You kinda like this one.

“So much, right now, umhle.  I could really use a break at the moment.  Are you free to meet?”

You look at the queue of calls sitting in your phone line and the stack of paperwork you need to upload and organize.

“Yeah, I can step away for a bit.  The usual?”

“If you don’t mind.  We could do something else if you’d rather.”  His tone tickles your eardrum as you imagine him saying that in another context, but T’Challa was completely pure in his intentions with you most of the time.

“No, no.  I could kill for some caffeine right now and it’s closer.  My energy is too low to walk far.” you say with a whine.

“Ms. Macchiato, in her true form.  I’ll see you there then.” 

“Ok, see you!”  You’re cheesing as you hang up the phone.  You look around at your other co-workers completely ignoring the queue and roll your eyes as you walk out.  No way in hell you would be the only person putting in phone work around here. You remind yourself to do some job searching later when possible.  

Walking into the shop, the smell of the coffee beans roasting was enough to make you moan audibly.  You were so damn ready to wrap your lips on the rim, letting the warm liquid rejuvenate your spirit.  As you approach the register, you hear a voice call to you.

“(Y/N)!  Over here!”  T’Challa waves from a table by the window.  

You wave and mime the you are going to order something and he replies, “I’ve got you right here, umhle.”  

You squint as you see the extra cup sitting in front of him with your name correctly scrawled along the side.  Walking up to him your heart swells with appreciation. T’Challa stands up placing a hand on your arm and a kiss on your cheek.

“You didn’t have to buy it for me.  I owe you for a couple other ones already.”  you say taking your seat.

T’Challa hisses his disdain for your comment.  “You have no reason to pay me back. That’s not how I do things; my treat is seeing you in front of me.”

You feel heat rise to your face from something other than the coffee.  You hide your goofy smile in your cup as you take a sip.

T’Challa smirks at you a while before continuing, “A hard days work looks good on you, by the way.  I know you said things have been piling up, that’s why I wondered if you would even be able to see me today.”  T’Challa sips from his ‘Thomas’ cup.

You tweak your mouth as you shift in your seat, “Yeah, I just figured, the work will still be there whether I take a break now or later.  And trust me, the work will still be there for me to do alone.”

“Ahh, so your co-workers aren’t as dedicated as you seem to be.”  T’Challa summizes.

“I mean, dedicated is a strong word.  I do what I need to do to get things cuz otherwise I’m going to hear someone’s mouth about it, and I don’t needed that added stress, you know?”

T’Challa nods hugging himself in contemplation, “I see what you mean.  Your situation seems to be working in comparison with mine. You know of my community work in high-crime areas?”

You nod.  T’Challa had spoken of his work with a non-profit to rebuild some areas that were pretty violent and drug ridden that you knew all too well.

“Well, of course it is not so simple as to give people things and expect them to use the materials to create a better situation for themselves with education.  So we are trying to do that, educate, but everyone is at a different learning level, and not everyone learns at the same rate or method. So, as much as we would love to be projecting great numbers of progress, they have been slow to come and almost stagnant at times due to us still trying to build a foundation for a successful program.”  T’Challa lifts his hands in surrender, shaking his head as he grips his cup up, staring into space.

“I get it.  That’s some of the hardest work in the world; helping others in a completely selfless way.  It can consume you, corrupt people and forget the mission at large. But I think you have a good head on your shoulders to keep things on track.”  You reach for T’Challa’s hand, running your thumb along his slightly rough knuckles.

T’Challa sighs deeply watching your hand on his; his eyelids halfen his eyes.  You see his shoulders start to relax as he grips your hand in yours.

“Look at that.  It looks funny to me how polar opposite our hands are.”  You stretch his out, raising it up to mirror yours, palm to palm.  “Mine is stout and chubby, yours long and knuckly.” You chuckle to yourself regarding the assessment,

T’Challa interlaces his fingers in yours, his eyes smizing, “It’s a beautiful combination, I think.  I need something soft to rest my hands on.”

Your heart skipped a beat at this statement.  T’Challa kept doing things like this. You smile at him and he just smiles back, kissing the back of your hand gingerly, maintaining the hold as he drinks from his cup.  Does he really not realize the double entendre or are you just too hot for him at this point? That’s something Tavia has practically put a countdown on: the time when you all fully express yourselves physically.

T’Challa says, “We have a community get-together happening this weekend by the way.  You could come by; there will be food, music, games, the works. I’ll be working a little bit of everything, trying to spread the word of our program for people to take advantage of, but I could escort you around.”  T’Challa says with a smile.

“Oh yeah!  I’d love to see you in action over there.  You had me at free food, but you know, the kids are the future as well.”  You quip.

T’Challa scoffs, “Well that’s what the food is there for.  Cheapest advertising tool known to man.” T’Challa looks at his watch, “I think I may have taken more of your time than I anticipated.”  

You look at your phone at get a mini heart attack.  Someone may actually notice your absence this time. You could just say you were in the bathroom the whole time.  You both get up to leave the coffee shop. 

Once outside you guys turn to each other.  A thought crosses your mind and you start to speak but decide against it.  

T’Challa, always observant, notices.  “What’s on your mind, umhle?”

“Uhh...I don’t, mm.”  You bite your tongue.

T’Challa rests his hand on your arm, sending an electricity through you that you found to be completely unfair.  “If you can’t make the community event, it is alright. Your rest is more important. And I know you have plenty other things to do.”

“No, it’s not that.  But um, are...do we…”  T’Challa looks at your expectantly.  “Are we...exclusive?”

There it is.  Something that has been plaguing you for a while is how much you guys have hung out and gotten to know each other, but you couldn’t place if you guys were good friends who just kiss sometimes, or if he was looking for anything more.  

“Are we exclusive?”  T’Challa parrots back.

You nod, not wanting to say much else out of embarrassment.

T’Challa steps in front of you slowly leaning to whisper in your ear, “I don’t kiss my friends the way I kiss you, umhle.”

His bass snakes your inner ear like the serpent on an apple, as you twinge to keep your juices from flowing on sight.

He pulls from your ear staring you, hand resting on your hip.  “And I am a one woman kind of man, (Y/N). Don’t think anyone else could carry a single percent of my attention from you.”  Looking to your mouth he hovers his over it before allowing you to close the gap between you. His lips fit with yours perfectly as the suction creates a chorus of smacks, sealing the definition of your relationship.

A low grunt comes from T’Challa as he sighs deeply pulling from you.  “So, do you like me? Yes or no?” He smiles goofily at you as you laugh at his childish question.

Stifling your smile, you say, “Maaaybe.  But it’s in your favor.”

Heading back to your place, Tavia is posted on the couch with an array of books and papers scattered around her.  She is back in school to earn a certification in something you keep forgetting. 

Tavia looks at you over her glasses, “Whaddup, doh?”

“Nuthin much, girl.  You?” You kick off your shoes and throw your keys in a bowl.

“Hun, you lookin at it.  Procrastination remains the death of me.  Them white folks still giving you hell at the job?”

“Yeah, they stay lazing around and I’m tending the field like Boss asks.”  You exasperate as you plop on the easy chair massaging your scalp.

“You need to get the fuck outta there.  They don’t appreciate you. And you too smart for that busy work.”

“Yeah.  It would be so much easier if I could just stay and not start all over in a new place, though.”

Tavia wags a finger, “Uh-uh.  Cuz then you would be getting more responsibility that does not reflect in your pay.  Leave!!”

You marinate on Tavia’s words.  It seems like she’s right honestly.  You have no position in that job and there is no way to work up because positions get taken quick or just aren’t available.

“At least we can get our frustrations all out on some canvas at the Sip and Paint Saturday.  Groupon finally came through with something good.” Tavia says bobbing her neck as she reads her notes.

Your stomach drops as you remember the plan you made last week with her.  “Uhh…”

Tavia snaps to look at you, “Uhhh? Uh what?”

You play with your fingers as you speak, “So I ran into T’Challa today…”

“And?”  Tavia winds her hand in the air for you to hurry up.

“He has a thing at his non-profit.  Like a block party type thing. I said I would help…”  You squeak out, waiting for the storm to blown.

Tavia looks at you frozen with blank expression.  “Ok, I see.”

You recoil into your body as you continue, “Are you mad?”

“NAH!  You good!  I get it, dick is important to lock down.  I applaud your efforts.” Tavia whips out her phone.  “I guess I’ll get back on this app life. The Groupon is only good in for a couple, not single.”

You go over to half hug Tavia, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Girl.”

“Tsk, make it up by making that dick dance for you.  That’s all I ask.” She pats your head on her shoulder before rolling it to get you off her.

You go to your room as you hear Tavia’s phone pinging on and on.  “See? I got options too!”

Saturday comes and you make your way to the park the community party was being held at.  Balloons and tables were in abundance; speakers were playing everything you heard on the radio and then some.  The smell of burgers and brats filled the air and your stomach instantly caved in with hunger. T’Challa said they were good on set up and really just wanted you to enjoy yourself for the most part.  

Making your way through the crowd, you go to the food table to fix a plate.  You smile and thank the servers as they pile your plate with the goods. Once you make it to the dessert area, you feel two hands grip sides, making you jump a little.

“I have to admit, the sweets on that table would only disappoint you.”  A voice you know too well tickles your hearing as his lips greet the side of your face.

You turn to see T’Challa smiling at you.  “They look pretty good to me, what’s the problem?”

“As sweet as your lips are, they’d only taste sour.”  he says screwing his lips in disgust before planting his mouth on yours.  You didn’t need the plate or dessert if this was all that touched your lips today.

“Brother!  This is not the way you introduce me to your girlfriend, eh?”  a voice says behind you.

A young lady with braids in a bun shakes her head clicking her tongue at the both of you.  “Shame, shame, I must say. We have health codes to maintain, please move the PDA along elsewhere.”

T’Challa smiles speaking to her, “(Y/N), this talkative volunteer is my sister, Shuri.  I told you about her a little bit.”

Shuri nods proudly, sticking her hand out.  “The pleasure is all mine. I am the subject of many people’s conversations, I’m just that memorable.  And don’t let him fool you, I am running this operation, not just volunteering.”

Taking her handshake, you buck your eyes at T’Challa “Oh?”

T’Challa shifts his weight, pursing his lips, “Shuri, you know better than to fib.  This isn’t Wakanda, you have a secondary position here.”

Shuri waves her hand in his face, “Ah ah ah!  Bump all of that, Brother. Science and tech is the most important aspect of the program, no surprise.  The public schools here do nothing to emphasize the importance and hone their knowledge to be able to apply what they learn outside the classroom.  Also, I meant the picnic anyway. You barely lifted a finger to decorate.”

“Bast!  I did more than life a finger.  Anything heavy was my job to handle!  Cutting up cake is not ‘doing everything’.”  T’Challa exclaims.

Shuri holds a fist up to her face and demonstrates a winding motion next to it.  “I wonder what will pop up?” Her middle finger slowly unravels.

“Can I get the apple pie, please?”  a person asks.

Shuri drops her hands and puts on a winning smile, “Of course!  We have plenty, so don’t hold back!” She says as she hands over a pre-cut slice.

You were getting your life to the back and forth between T’Challa and Shuri.  Rubbing T’Challa’s back you dismiss yourselves. “Thank you Shuri, and it was so nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, (Y/N).  He can’t shut up about you, so use that to your advantage.”

T’Challa moans in frustration shaking his head as he leads you away to a table to sit.

You sit and start to to smack on your food.

“(Y/N), I’m going to make rounds for a bit.  Will you be ok here?” 

You nod with a mouth full of food hindering your speech.  T’Challa smiles, kissing your forehead as he walks toward some informational tables.  The whole party seemed to be a smash hit. Hordes of people walked around enjoying the sites and music.  Kids ran after each other and got their faces painted. Shuri moved from the dessert table to the science area where she and others demonstrated simple experiments making fog and foam appear from virtually thin air.  There was a mini exhibit on an element called ‘vibranium’ that you hadn’t heard of before so maybe you would check that out. 

Finishing your plate, you definitely had The Itis, so you needed to get up and do something.  You weren’t sure where T’Challa went, but you went around to enjoy the sights regardless. You played a couple of the carnival games, trying to knock bottles down with a nerf gun and that one cornhole game that’s always a classic.  

You waited in line forever to get your face painted and while the clown lady was giving you a gorgeous flower on your cheek, a voice calls out to you.

“Yaaass!  Getcho face BEAT for the Gods!”

Turning slightly to not mess up the creation, you see Tavia made it to the party.

“Hey girl!  Whatchu doin here?  You didn’t say you were coming!”  You exclaim taking her hand lovingly.  

“I love surprises though, so here I be!  I did wanna be nosy too though. Where’s Tobago?”

You roll your eyes, “Tavia, I will knock you clean the fuck out if you get his name wrong in front to his face.  T-Cha-lla.”

“Listen, it only matters that you get Thalia’s name right.  Don’t worry bout me! Where is he anyway?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.  I thought he would be escorting me around but he got caught up in the mix I guess.  Why are you here though? Ain’t Sip and Paint tonight?”

Tavia nods, “Uh-huh.  I found a willing participant to accompany so I’ll be leaving, like now.”

The lady gives you a mirror to show you the finished art on you.  “Ok, well have fun. I know this is about to wrap up too in like 15 minutes, so if I don’t do anything after, I’ll be home.”

“Please, do something else!  You made your way out here for the nigga to abandon you for most of it.  He owes you somethin!” She raises her eyebrows at you suggestively.

“Ok!  Bye!” You say dismissing her.

As Tavia leaves, you look around to see where T’Challa went.  Instead, you see Shuri breaking down the science exhibit area and decide to ask her.

“Hey, Shuri.  Have you seen your brother around?”

Shuri looks across the way, “I don’t know actually but I hope he is deflating the bounce house.  People will keep coming and kids will never leave if that stays up.” Shuri struggles to fold a table and you reach down to bend the leg joint of it so it folds.

“Ugh, thanks (Y/N).”

“No problem!  Do you need help with anything else around here?  I got nothing else to do.”

Shuri nods looking around,  “If you collect some tablecloths and toss them.  They are disposable so we aren’t keeping them. After that, we got tables we are loading up in the trucks nearby.  Don’t wear yourself out though! Just a couple would be a great start and you can leave whenever you want.”

“Ok, will do.  This was an amazing event by the way.”

Shuri laughs with her tongue out, as she brushes her shoulders off, “I does what I can!”

Collecting the tablecloths you think about how beyond her years Shuri appears to be.  The girl is a teenager, but is of course so smart and has a great business-head on her shoulders.  Plus it was so cute to hear her talking shit with her accent; she really was down! You wanted to be her when you got your life together.  

With all of the tablecloths disposed of, you head to tipping a table and getting it folded.

“Eh!  My sister has you working now?”  T’Challa comes out of nowhere, reaching to fold the legs down.

“No, I volunteered!  I wasn’t doing anything else so…”

T’Challa raises the table on its side, walking the table to the truck.  “I’m sorry about that, by the way. There was a lot of behind the scenes stuff that I had to help with that was...unexpected.”

You nod, quiet.  You couldn’t hide your disappointment.  “I still saw a lot though, escorted on not.  This place was hopping with shit to do.” 

T’Challa steps in front of you, grasping your chin, eyes locked on you suddenly.  Your insides jump at the anticipation of what was to come from his touch. 

He turns your head slightly to the left, studying your art, “Ahhh, a purple flower.  It almost resembles the Heart Shaped Herb from back home.”

Your pace steadies as you realize his intentions.  “Yeah? I just wanted something pretty and purple and boom!  There it is.” 

T’Challa nods, licking his lips as he studies your face.  Letting go, he say, “Let me make it up to you. We could get some dinner...or a movie.”  You contemplate the options. “Or both? We could really paint the town if you want, so we can catch up.”  He says softly caressing your painted cheek. Your center began to throb again. T’Challa was always making it impossible to think clearly when he is talking about completely normal things but not giving you any room to breath.  If it weren’t for the people around, you would press up on him right now; that’s what you wanted to do!

“Both is good,”  you squeak out before moving away to go back to get another table.  You walked with a bounce to ensure he would have a show as you walked away.    

T’Challa had three tables down as you had just finished folding your one.  Walking it back to the truck, your foot hits a hole in the ground you didn’t see.  You lose your balance as you try to hold the table, but it sends you off kilter even more.  A sharp pain shoots through your ankle as you land, the table plops on top of you. 

You yelp in pain as you try to push the table off and not move your leg.  Suddenly the table is clear off of you and you see T’Challa over you, face riddled with worry.

“(Y/N), are you ok?  Where are you hurt?” He asks, kneeling and holding your head in his hands.

You point down to your leg.  “My ankle! God!”

Shuri has come over to look it over.  She presses something on her bracelet causing a stream of light to cascade over your swelling foot.  Your skeletal make up in your ankle is revealed for a short period.

“What is that?”  you ask, having never seen that kind of technology.  

Ignoring you, Shuri says, “It isn’t broken, thank Bast.  We can’t handle an OSHA case right now, right brother?” Shuri jabs him, chuckling.  T’Challa’s returned expression snaps her back to a professional tone. “Like I said, not broken, just sprained so she needs to lay off of it a while: wrap it, ice it, the works.”  She instructs as she heads back to her duties.

T’Challa nods, “Ok, come (Y/N).  I’ll take you home.”

You didn’t protest this time.  Your ankle hurt like hell, so a free ride couldn’t hurt.  T’Challa reaches your arm around his shoulders and reaches his arm under your knees to lift you.

“Whoa, whoa!  I don’t like that.  Please, I’ll hop.” you say.

T’Challa looks at you incredulously, “It will be faster if I carried you.”

Your body tenses up, “Come on, I don’t wanna...weigh you down or whatever.  Please, this is embarrassing enough.”

T’Challa bats his eyes realizing the problem, “Do you think I cannot lift you?”

You lean your head back, mortified.  “I know you are strong, I can tell. But I’m a sturdy gal, I’m just trying to warn you.”

T’Challa sucks his teeth, going at lifting you again.  You close your eyes tightly as your weight becomes nothing in his arms.  You feel the bounce of his stride as you peak to see you are in motion. T’Challa looks ahead, no signs of strain, he looks at you and winks.  Your cat could meow with how good he was making you feel right now showing off himself. You hadn’t been lifted since grade school, and your current boo does it like you are a toddler.  God bless it. 

T’Challa puts you down a moment to get the door to his Lexus open.  T’Challa takes your hands as you slowly sit down, folding your legs in, careful to not bump your ankle against the door.

“How are you feeling?”  T’Challa asks, resting his hand on your knee, eyes wide with concern.

You nod, “I’m good, don’t worry.”  You cup the side of his face, causing him to lean his face into your palm.  He turns to kiss your palm before getting up to close your door and make his way to the drivers’ side.

Starting the engine, he asks, “Alright, now what is your address?”  as he searches for the GPS program in his dash. You give it to him, praying to God Tavia hadn’t made it home yet.

Once you guys are on the road, T’Challa reaches over for one of your hands in your lap.  “Are you still ok?”

“Yeah, more than.  Thanks, by the way, for the ride.”

“Ahh, don’t thank me.  It’s the least I could do.  You were such a big help today.”  T’Challa says gripping your hand a little tighter.

“Hardly!  I took down two tables and almost broke an ankle.  Plus we won’t be able to go out tonight cuz of me.”  You say disappointedly.

“If I was by your side like I said I would, there would be known of these issues to begin with.”  T’Challa takes your hand, kissing the back of it. 

You almost forget your ankle when he warms you up like that.  A man admitting fault was a big turn on, you had to admit. And you loved how affectionate he was, without pressure; just enough.  Looking at your ankle you remember something from earlier, “What was that device Shuri used? It was like a portable X-Ray device?”

T’Challa nods slowly, “Precisely what it was.  Shuri developed it in her lab in Wakanda and it’s been pretty vital to our village.”

You think on this, “Wow, you guys have a lot more to you than I imagined.  It’s beautiful.”

T’Challa smirks, “The Western media would make you think we are impoverished but we have handled ourselves without outside help, and I think that says something.”  Your mind was churning with so many other questions but before you knew it, you guys made it your your place. 

Luckily you all have an elevator, so T’Challa only carried you, without hesitation, to the elevator then your door.  Setting you down, you get your keys together to find the one for your door.

“Umm, once I get inside, I should be able to manage if you need to make it back to the park.”  you say nervously. 

“Oh, they wouldn’t miss one person, I think.  If it’s comfortable with you, I want to check your ankle once more before I head back, though.”  He looks at you with a serious expression.

You nod, turning to the door to hide your excitement.  As you open the door, the apartment is dark and quiet, so Tavia must be having a good night.  Turning on the lights, you start hobbling to the couch. T’Challa doesn’t miss a beat, ducking under your arm to support you as you sit down.  

T’Challa takes a couple decorative pillows and props them under your ankle, lightly inspecting it.  

“Well it doesn’t look worse, which is good.  Do you have little baggies and ice?”

You nod and point, “The fridge makes it, yeah.  And the drawer under the microwave should have some lunch bags to fill.”  

T’Challa gets to work, Macgyvering an ice bag for you.   As you lay back, you catch yourself smelling like the outside, and instantly get embarrassed.  You can’t get comfortable when you’re funky anyway, plus T’Challa would help you hobble around so might as well use him while he is here.

“Uh, T’Challa, can you hold off on the bag for a second.  I need to go to my room, if you can spare your shoulders.”  you ask.

“All the more for you to lean on, umhle.”  T’Challa says lovingly, as you direct him to the right room.  “It’s nice to see how you live on a daily basis. You keep a nice home.”  T’Challa says as you reach your room.”

“My roommate gets most of the decorating credit, I gotta say.  I do tell her when to reel it in though, so points for creative direction goes to moi.”

As you step into your room, you declare, “So I need to shower, cuz yikes.”  You say sniffing yourself. “But did you want to stick around or….”

“I would love to!”  He answers a little quicker than necessary.  “No problem at all. Do you want me to order something?  We could still have our dinner here.”

“Yes!  Good idea.  Let’s just do a pizza, from that local spot we passed.”

“I am well aware of it.  Excellent choice.” He takes his phone out as you get a change of clothes and head for the bathroom.

In the shower you give yourself a pep talk.  You are a goddess, queen! With your prince out there lying in wait for this body.  He wants ALLADIS, sis! Don’t get nervous, or shy. If you run out of things to talk about, hey, you are on a bed, fill in the blanks.  Damn, Tavia really got into you.

You lather your body in berry scents as you rinse, giving yourself a towel off and quick moisturization.  You picked some shorts and a baby doll tank to wear. Still pajamas, but with a hint of lingerie appeal. Opening the door you step out to see T’Challa flipping through the TV channels.  His head cranes in your direction.

“I didn’t think I’d smell something so heavenly until the pizza arrived.”  He says smiling, eyes darting down your body.

“Haha, good one.”  You say limping to the bed, sitting back.

“Was it too….”

“Don’t!”

“....cheesy?”  T’Challa says scrunching his nose.

You slap his back with an audible thud.  He holds takes your calf, placing it on his lap to ice with the bag he made earlier.  The cool sensation was relieving, making you moan audibly. You bite your lip when you realize how comfortable you were getting.

T’Challa massages your calf as he holds the bag on your ankle, “Does that relieve you, umhle?”

You nod before answering, “Yeah, it does.  Keep doing it.” You say, your vocal cords suddenly laced with honey as your voice dips seductively.

T’Challa rubs your calf some more.  “I told you it is nice to have something soft to rest my hands on.” studying your leg as he goes.

You could’ve jumped out of your skin with that comment.  So he DID know the double entendre, sly devil!

You chuckle trying to keep from freaking out before saying, “I’m pretty soft just out the shower though, don’t be fooled.  Takes a lot to maintain.” You make a face behind T’Challa at your words. Snatching an insult out of the jaws of a compliment, nice.

“You make it look effortless.” he says looking up at you.  “You think you could lend me some products?” he says showing all those beautiful teeth to you.

You smile into your chest shaking your head.  “You can have whatever you like. But you have to follow the steps or you’ll just be a mess!”

T’Challa squints at you, “Eh?  What process are you talking about?”

You swallow, hoping this doesn’t go over his head, “Well, you are on the right track practically.  I like to start with my calves, very important. But I have so much more leg to go.”

T’Challa nods slowly, appearing to understand.  “I see, so then we go to…” His hand hovers above your thigh.  You shiver in anticipation, “The knee!” planting his hand on your kneecap.

You guffaw, “Right!  Can’t neglect ashy knees! True!  Then what, Chacha?”

He looks at your knee quizzically like its a jigsaw to solve, “The only way to go is the…”  and without a word he snakes his hand up your thigh. You bite your lip, elevating your hips under his touch.  

T’Challa tucks his lips as he notices your movement, “Is your reaction normal for the process?”   he asks as his voice has caught the honey coated timbre of seduction as well. His eyes glaze over, looking from your face to your body, mouthslightly agape to the treats he will hopefully be soon to receive.

His hands grip both your thighs, one working inner, the other outer; his long hands encompass the surface area of your thickness easily.  Your walls start to talk back to you, awaiting their turn for a massage.

“When it’s done right, yeah.”  you say, unafraid at this point.  You pull T’Challa’s face into yours, gripping the back of head.  The kiss starts off as your regular ones do, only once did T’Challa try to slip tongue, but you go into a schoolgirl giggle fit when he had.  This time was different, there was no ‘will he, won’t he’ because you were both on the same page. Your mouths opened simultaneously to welcome each other in.  T’Challa moves your leg away gently as the ice bag falls to the floor. One of his hands grips your booty cheek, spreading it about like dough. You felt the spread in your lips as you moaned against his mouth, gripping his back to wrestle his shirt up, feeling the warmth of his skin.  

You lean back on the bed as T’Challa hovers over you, sucking your neck; the sounds sensations of his lips against you could make you climax on its own.  Then he got the nerve to pepper your collarbone and chest area with kisses, gripping your titties up like the were ripe for the picking.

“I have been wanting to explore your body for weeks.”  He says suckling on your neck in between. “You can’t imagine the torture I have sustained to remain respectful.”

You shiver at this confession.  All the feelings you had and that he gave you were mutual.  “I think I can, ‘Challa. I feel it, 10 times more.”

You hadn’t gotten this far before, and it was becoming overwhelming for you.  You either had to stop or get it in. Reaching for the button of his pants, you were shooting for the latter.  T’Challa freezes above you as he watches your hands undo his pants. His breathing is heavily laden as you work the fly down to relieve his growing protrusion.

T’Challa begins to ask, “Umhle, are you sure-” before there is a knock on the front door.

You instantly dry up as you forgot the pizza was on the way, dropping your hands frustratedly.  T’Challa rests his head on your shoulder a moment, before unmounting you to gain his composure on the side of the bed.

You don’t see his face but an awkward amount of time passes before you sit up.  “I’ll get the door...” 

T’Challa waves his hand in protest, “No, you rest your ankle, I’ve got it, I just...need time.”  He gets up, buckling and zipping his pants as he walks outside. You cross your arms in wait, thinking about what almost happened.  You would have to take another shower with all the preheating he did to your oven.

T’Challa stands at the door with the box in his hand.  “Did you want to eat in here?”

He looked at you like a lost puppy.  You weren’t sure what he was thinking of, but you figured the moment between you both has passed for now.

You nod, patting the bed.  “Yeah, nothing fancy here. Come on.” 

T’Challa sits on the edge of the other side, placing the box between you both.  He picks up the ice bag to place on your ankle once more, patting your leg like cattle this time.  

The fresh smells makes your stomach churn as you remember how hungry you were, grabbing a slice; T’Challa takes one as well, taking a big bite.  You turn the TV to one of your tried and true comedies to binge. As the canned laughter fills your room, you look over to T’Challa looking like he is about ready to doze off.

“T’Challa?”  you call to him.

His eyes flutter open as he looks to you, a lazy smile spreads across his face.  “I’m sorry, umhle. I’m more tired than I thought before.” He gets up to stretch, joints popping, groaning with relief.

“You can sleep over if you want...just sleeping, you know.  You’re tired, I’m tired, let’s just...sleep.” you say rambling.  You wanted to make sure there was no pressure to spontaneously perform again.

T’Challa leans over the bed kissing you on the side of your face.  “You would take in a lost Wakandan to lay his head at your residence?”

You give him a defiant look, “I didn’t say the whole village, now.  Just you!” You both laugh as he takes the pizza box and sets it on your table.  

“Plus my ankle has felt much better since you been here.”  You tell him as if he needed further convincing. He climbs in next to you, resting his head on you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Then let’s not make haste for a speedy recovery.”  He says sleepily.

You feel his hand rub your side gently, slowing up until he goes to sleep.  The hum of his breathing sounds so sweet to you as you close your eyes to listen to its melody.  Turning off the TV, you shimmy down to lay next to him, stirring T’Challa only a little, who adjusts to pull you in for spooning as you call it a night.  You thought about how wild the night progressed but you still wouldn’t change a minute of it. His arms beat the panther plushie you have been hugging on any day.

Morning rays flood your room as the sun woke you up.  You start to stretch and jerk with alarm when you feel him around you still.  You forgot for a second he stayed with you. Adjusting your titties back in your shirt, you hear him waking up behind you as well.

“Mmm, is it morning already?”  T’Challa groaned.

“It is, Chacha.”  You look back at him, eyes still squinting awake but smiling at nonetheless.   “Do you want to do breakfast?” you ask turning to face him.

T’Challa rubs your back as he replies, “I wish I could.  But I have to get back to the center to debrief about yesterday’s festivities.  It’s already-” he looks at his watch. “9:30 am. I’ll be there around noon, so I’ll go home and freshen up first.”

You whine at his plans, rubbing his chest for coaxing, “I don’t want you to go yet…”

His forehead meets yours, “How about I order you breakfast to enjoy in my absence and we make a date for my place next week?”  He looks at you for a reply.

You wipe some sleep out of his eye before answering, “I guess that sounds good.”  You exchange smiles before pecking a kiss on each other. 

Suddenly music blasts from the living room.  Tavia has been on a workout kick that requires a trap soundtrack to stay motivated.

T’Challa winces at the noise, “And we can be free from interruptions...”  He twirls a wayward twist in your hair. “Completely free to do...anything.”

You squeeze your thighs at the thought before squirming away to get up.  “I’d like that, T’Challa. Let me walk you out.” 

Opening your bedroom door, you see Tavia hopping from one side of the room to the other.  She sees you come out.

“Hey girl!  Listen, when I’m done, let’s do a brunch thing or somethin!  I’m starving and got some stories for you!” After one rotation she looks back at you for reply, by now noticing T’Challa.  Tavia stops in her tracks, pausing her video.

“Tavia, this is T’Challa.”  You make faces, pointing at Tavia from behind him as he walks over to her.

“Nice to meet a friend of (Y/N)’s.  I have heard wonderful things.”

“Same here...T’Cha...lla.”  Tavia says dumbfounded. You give her a thumbs up.

You and T’Challa walk over to the front door going outside to kiss each other goodbye once more before closing the door.  

You and Tavia look at each other in silence for a second before bursting out in shrieks and giggles, jumping around.

“That’s my BITCH!  I see you with that morning after glow on you!  Talk to me, tell me something GOODT!”

You guys park on the couch before you start, “Ok, so first things first, we didn’t sleep together; like we literally just slept.”

Tavia instantly checked out.  “Oh HELL NO! Did he go down on you at least?”

You shake your head.

“Come ON, B!  Well what the fuck is there to talk about??  How is he here in the morning but not for getting it in.  You need to swipe your card before it expires!”

“It doesn’t expire, hoe!  And I’m more than ready to swipe it, cash it, turn it in to the authorities, but if you let me tell the story-”

A knock raps on the door.  You both look at each other confused before you get up to answer.  Peeping through the hole, you see a delivery man, you think.

Opening the door, the man holds two sacks to you.

“Delivery, miss!”

“We didn’t order anything…” You say looking to Tavia.

The delivery man looks at the receipt. “A….Ms. Macchiato?”

The name rings bells.  T’Challa said he would order breakfast for you, but you forgot to turn it down.  

Tavia comes up behind you, “What is it?” 

“T’Challa got us breakfast,”  you say taking the bags and thanking him.

“Bish whet??  Gimme gimme gimme!”

Tavia rips open a bag to see the omelettes, hashbrowns, toast, boiled eggs, sausage, bacon.  

Another knock comes to the door.  You jump to get it.

“Here are the drinks too, Miss.”  the delivery man huffs and puffs.

“Oh thank you!”  you reply taking the OJ and apple juice cups.

Tavia is tearing through her spinach omelette when she says, “Ok, I’m ready to hear it.  What freaky shit you put on him to do alladis??”


	5. Chapter 5

You and Tavia had a real good girl chat over your night with T’Challa.  Of course, she claims that the pizza would’ve just had to have waited but you just accept each other’s differences.   

“And what about what he workin with, was it….”  Tavia holds her hands out, gradually holding them further apart.

“I didn’t get to see it!” you yell out horrified.

Tavia keeps parting her hands to a ridiculous length.

“GIRL!  Stop, you play too much!”   You laugh as you slap her hands down.  “But I mean, he seemed...full, if that makes sense.”

“Mhm!  A grower, no problem with that AT ALL!  So you think you ready for it?” Tavia asks.

You sigh, thinking a moment.  “I mean, I was hella ready at that moment…”

“But the planning of it all is getting to you, huh?”   Tavia says with a long face.

You nod, “A little bit.  This is new to me, so I don’t reeeeally know what to expect with him.”

“You seen videos, you know the basics.  Plus I know for a FACT that you took advantage of that toy you bought when we went to that sex shop on you last birthday.  Remote control batteries don’t just walk away girl.”

You hide your face, “Tavia, this is different though.  Why does there have to be so many steps to a relationship.  I just wanna be in old person phase now; comfortable and knowing each other.  This puppy dog shit is just raising my blood pressure.”

“Well sex is a good at alleviating that too.  But for real, just take ya time with it. If it ain’t happening when he expect it and he don’t like it, he can dip!  You don’t owe him nothing!”

You smile, “I love when you start to sound like ya mama.”

Tavia throws a napkin in your face.  “Aye! Don’t be rude! Cheryl ain’t got no business here!”

You hold your forehead still a little stressed.  “You wanna do them workouts together real quick?”  You get up, picking up the empty containers.

Tavia moans, “For real?  We just ate! I won’t be able to move for like five hours, yo.  And don’t throw them containers away! That’s good plastic, we can use them for tupperware.  That’s how you know he went to a nice spot.”

Putting them in the sink you grab the remote looking for a workout video.  “I gotta pick up some cardio to get right. And I ain’t gonna be eatin like that again for a minute.”  You subconsciously grip your fupa.

“(Y/N), I know you not calling yourself going on a crash diet kick?  I’m not going down that road with you. I don’t subscribe to that life, and it’s lowkey dangerous.”  Tavia says.

You shrug, “I mean, I just wanna look RIGHT, you know?  He’s gonna be seeing EVERYTHING, like at different angles and shit, so I’m just-”

Tavia holds a finger up, “Ok, look.  First of all, you been you since I knew you.  You fly as shit, you thicc as fuck, you pretty as hell, and T’Challa seen alladat and then some.  You think he worried bout a little stomach pudge?”

You sigh at Tavia’s comments.  You do feel good about yourself, the best you ever have.  But your weight being put on blast was never a fully comfortable conversation to have.

“Ok, you right.  I’m just being stupid all of a sudden.”  You say heading to your room.

“You not dumb, girl.  I know you like him, but he likes you already so don’t stress.  That ass almost got split last night without a pound lost, so you better getcha life!”

\--

At work, when you were deep in hell with customer frustrations, you thought for sure you would have to scream to get relief.  Something about adults whining just turned your mood so quickly and deeply. At least babies and toddlers have little understanding on controlling their emotions and the world around them.  That should be mastered once you get grown.

Your phone vibrates as a picture of you and T’Challa flash on your screen, signaling him calling you. 

“Hey Chacha, whatchu callin bout?”  you ask in a hush voice.

“Hi, (Y/N).   Nothing really.  Are they working you hard?”  T’Challa asks.

You shrug, “Do they ever not?” 

“Aww, umhle, I wish I could whisk you away right now…”  T’Challa purrs.

“Oh, could you?  I can come up with a story so fast!  It’d be nothing to me.”

T’Challa laughs, “Actually, I called to let you know that I will be whisked away, for a few days.”

You sit up a little straighter, “Oh?  Where are you going?”

“Back to Wakanda.  I have some business with my family to attend to.”  His voice sounds strained.

You shift in your seat, “Aww, well it’s not something serious?”

“No, no.  I guess a little, but it’s nothing that I can’t handle.”  T’Challa says rushed.

You aren’t sure how much to press him on the matter, so you keep it light. “Ok, make sure you travel safe then.  We can reschedule our get together so you aren’t jet lagged.”

T’Challa clicks his tongue, “Uh uh, that is still going as planned.  I wouldn’t miss our date for the world. Remember, it’s just a few days, nothing major.” 

You sigh into the phone, refusing to hide your disappointment.  “Ok, sounds good. Our spot at the coffee shop won’t be as fun without you.”

“Did you want me to order you something ahead of time?”  T’Challa asks.

You smile, “Nooo, that won’t be necessary.  Listen, I’ve gotta go, but let me know if plans change, ok?”

“I will see you Friday.”  T’Challa says confidently before you both hangup.

Despite Tavia’s advice, you decide to try and do a little extra to make sure your body could get a little extra oomph to it before your date with T’Challa.  You found some dance workouts to do for cardio, and your tried and true yoga to work on your flexibility; hip openers and the like. You kept your diet clean, went to the salon, and even got a wax.  A bikini would have to do, the process was too painful for you to go any deeper. The day before your date, T’Challa let you know that he would still see you Friday.

“Do you have any allergies or foods you don’t like?”  T’Challa asks during a phone call the night before.

“Uhhh, no allergies that I am aware of.  Not too big a fan of onions, tomatoes, pickles, processed meats…”  You say thinking.

There’s a pause on T’Challa’s end, “Oook.  So my Chicago style hot dog idea wouldn’t work for you huh?”  

“Haha, no it would not!  What are you ordering then?”  You say pacing your floor.

T’Challa scoffs, “Ordering?  You don’t think I am capable to make a meal for my lo- ahem, lady?”

You pause at the slight stutter T’Challa did there, but shake it out of your mind.  “Well my bad. I just figured you are a master at getting deliveries sent in a timely manner that I just assumed.”

“There is a lot more to me than you may imagine; cooking being one of them.”

“Ok, well I look forward to all these new discoveries!  Don’t hurt yourself trying to do too much.”

“Never.  I will however, be ordering a car to come get you.  I may be short on time between the community center and getting the meal together.”

You sit down on your bend, mindlessly play with your panther plushie, “A car?  T’Challa I can call my own Lyft. You’re always paying for things.”

“I am just treating you like a guest in my home.  I want to make sure you arrive safely, so that will be no issue.”

“Ok….just so you don’t think I’m freeloading off of you or whatever.”

T’Challa clicks his tongue, “You helped me at the community event, risking life and limb in the process.  You offered your bed to me to sleep in, I am only returning your kindness. And it is what a man should do for a woman who he cares for.”

Butterflies sprout in your stomach at his words you bite on the head of your panther to keep from squealing out loud with excitement.

“Hello?  (Y/N), are you still there?”  T’Challa asks during the silence.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m here baby.  And of course I put up with you because I care too, you know.”  You say nonchalantly. It’s hard to be mushy and serious over the phone for you.

T’Challa laughs, “I can be a lot to put up with, so I’ll take it!  I’ll let you go so you can rest, umhle. Sleep well.”

“Sweet dreams, Chacha.”  As you hang up his voice always seemed to stick in your ears like ringing after a loud concert.  You enjoyed the hum of his lovely baritone dancing as you lied back to rest. You couldn’t go to sleep straight away, thinking of last time you all were together; his hands exploring your body, his mouth enveloping yours, your tongues dancing.  You have a sudden itch that needs to be scratched so you get up for your drawer to dig something out. You forgot to go to the store, and luckily Tavia was in the room as you lift the batteries from the living room remote…

\--

The night has come at long last.  You put on a casual dress that hugged your curves just enough to trigger the imagination.

“Ok girl!  You got yourself smelling like a bakery, you about done or what?”  Tavia yells out to you.

You manipulate your hair for the umpteenth time.  “Yeah! I got like 30 min though so no worries.”

You touch up your lips and survey your final look.  “I’d do me. You think?”

Tavia nods, “The fuckability meter is off the charts, bish.  My baby girl growing up, it’s finally happening!”

A wave of anxiety hits you at Tavia’s announcement.  “Please don’t get me more nervous than I already am, I get gassy.”  Your phone dings as a message saying your ride was minutes away comes in.  

“Ok, you got your little walk of shame bag packed?”  Tavia asks.

You trot to the foot of your bed to look through it, “Yes.”

“You got toothbrush, change of clothes, condoms.”

Slinging it over your shoulder, “Sure do.”

Tavia grabs your arms, “I think you ready, baby!”  She hugs you, wiping fake tears. “You have fun, and call me with the secret word if shit ain’t right, you hear?”

You nod appreciatively, “You’re doing a little bit of the most right now, but I got you.”  Your phone dings that your car has arrived. “Ok, I’m out, I’ll let you know when I’m headed back.  Keep the house together while I’m gone, please?”

“This whole area is my space for at least 24 hours?  I ain’t ne’er makin no promises.”

You say goodbye to your girl and walk out to see a slick Lincoln Continental waiting idly for you.  The driver opens the door for you as you slide in. You and the driver exchange cordialities as you head to T’Challa’s place.  You take out your phone to let him know you are headed over. He accidentally texts a laughing face, followed by an apology and a heart.

The drive is a bit long, definitely a ways from your side of town.  The car finally slows as you look out the window and see his place. You were amazed at the loft that he lived in.  For him to be doing non-profit work, you thought he may have more humble dwellings. The driver lets you out and you thank him.  As you walk up, you call T’Challa to say you are outside. He opens the door as soon as you all hang up. Opening the door you see him standing there, grinning all sly at you, the apple of his cheeks jutting out.  He is wearing a short sleeve shirt with the four buttons going down his chest, two are open, accentuating his collarbones and a bit of his chest: necklace hugging around his neck. 

“Good to see you make it.”  T’Challa says practically through his teeth, he can’t stop cheesing at you.  You are warmed by his greeting; you feel tingles in your extremities from your excitement.  T’Challa steps to you, placing a hand on your waist, giving you a quick but plentiful kiss on your lips.  Breathing him in, his body contacting yours, the privacy; you prayed you would be able to make it through dinner.

Stepping in as T’Challa closes the door you say, “I’m glad I finally got to come over.  I thought for sure you would have to reschedule.”

T’Challa carries your bag and takes your hand to walk you up the couple steps to his living space.  “I couldn’t risk wasting your time. I gave my word about tonight and I plan to follow through with everything.”  He gives your hand a squeeze before going off to the kitchen. The butterflies wake up in your stomach again. You know what he means by everything and it aroused you and freaked you out all at the same time.   

“Do you want my shoes, on or off?”  you ask.

T’Challa shrugs, “Make yourself as comfortable as you know how.”  You decide to kick them off.

The smells of marinated beef, rice, grilled vegetables hit your taste buds, making your mouth water.  You were making yourself eat like a bird for so long, you couldn’t wait to taste that meat.

“I was just putting together a plate for dessert.  I’m not much of a baker so I just got some fruit, chocolate mousse.  I have some ice cream too if you want.” He says as he goes in the fridge to pull out a package of strawberries.  

“Ok, Chacha,  I see you! And no takeout containers so it seems you actually did work.”  You sit across from him on a stool at the kitchen island.

He looks up at you with playful annoyance and then you hear a low hum.  He looks at his wrist and steps away from you for a moment with his back turned.

“Eh?.....Yeah, I’m letting it rest now…….No, I don’t like measuring so I just got some fru-......What do you know?”  There is soul music playing in the loft that you bop to as you wait. You look behind you to try and see over his shoulders.  A light was emanating in front of him like he was speaking to it, but you couldn’t quite make it out.... 

”...You are getting too nosy, I don’t need your services for the evening, goodbye!”  He exhales sharply as he makes his way back over to the island and puts up a bowl of fruit.

You swipe a strawberry, “What was that about?”

“My sister.  She may have helped me come up with a menu tonight.  She gets a little too bossy when given a task, unfortunately.”  He goes to put the remaining strawberries back in the fridge, bringing out the mousse.

“Ohh, so you DIDN’T do it all by yourself.  You lie, Chacha…” you say in a sing songy voice, wagging your finger at him.

He squints at you walking over to you as you pretend to ignore him come up behind you, putting his hands in either side of you on the island, hovering over your ear.

“You will find my hands are very capable in the kitchen…” T’Challa’s bass vibrates your inner ear better than a Q-tip as you can’t stop from squirming.  He kisses your shoulder chuckling at your reaction.

“Well you seem ready to eat so….let’s go.”  You put on a suggestive voice as you push his arms aside to get over to the table he set with candlelight and a bottle chilling.

T’Challa chuckles to himself as he sits down across from you.  You lay a napkin over you lap trying to keep your smile from being to ridiculous over the blatant romanticism.

“I love what you did with the table, T’Challa.  It’s so...intimate!” You take a bite of your beef to control your mouth.  You have a tendency to talk just to fill silence when you’re nervous.

T’Challa nods while swallowing his bite.  “I just wanted it to be a bit special, but I hope it’s not too formal.”

“No!  Not at all, I mean, not too formal where I’m like I feel overdressed or whatever.”  You gulp some wine. The room was getting hot all of a sudden.

T’Challa puts his elbows on the table staring at you, “Is everything ok?”

You nod, looking at your plate to scrape together another bite, “Of course!  This is all just lovely, really.” You look up to see T’Challa looking at you suspiciously.

“(Y/N)....”  He draws your name out like a parent fixing to drag the truth out of their child.  

You roll your eyes and wipe your mouth.  “I mean, look. I wasn’t expecting such a nice place for you to live in?  Like, you work for a charity basically, and yet your place does not fit your expected tax bracket, T’Challa.  I feel a little like, Pretty Woman, or Princess Diaries or something.” You say with a huff. You didn’t expect so much truth to fall out of your mouth on what’s supposed to be a hot and heavy evening.

T’Challa crosses his arms, squinting at you.  “I don’t think I understand the references…”

You wave him off, “They are classics with America’s favorite white women.   It’s understandable. But to make it more clear, I feel like a pauper in royal kingdom.  Just -- you seen my place, my neighborhood. I’m like, in a college student dwelling.”

T’Challa sighs tiredly, reaching out for you to grab you hand, “I understand.  I’m sorry if you feel out of place or that I haven’t been completely transparent.  But I come from a family of influence and they provide for me a comfortable life. I don’t always stay here because it is so far from the center, I have a small apartment in the city.  But I wanted to impress you, so I may have overstepped.” 

T’Challa’s thumb rubs the back of your hand as he gets candid with you.  You feel yourself calming down since he opened up. “You didn’t. This all is really perfect.  And the food is top notch, for real. Shuri may have guided you but if this was your hands only, I am more than impressed.”

T’Challa beams at your compliment.  “I am glad! Do you think you have room for dessert, or…?”

Before you respond, you catch a song playing in the background that makes you twist.  “Oooh. no you didn’t!”

T’Challa looks at you like you’re strange, “What do you mean?  You saw me put it out.”

You snap your fingers and bob your head.  “No! This song! You got The Internet’s new shit playing!”

T’Challa catches on too, “Ahh, yes.  I checked them out after our first date.  Their selections are pretty good, so it’s on my regular playlist.”

You make  puppy dog eyes at him, “You remembered the concert?  That is so damn CUTE!” 

T’Challa smirking, he gets up and reaches for your hand.  “Dance with me.”

You get up slowly, acting shy.  “Oh God, Chacha, come on.”

When he grabs your hand he spins you around and pulls you close to him.  “You practically fell out of your chair at the first beat, you need to let out that energy.”

You smile in his chest as you rest your forehead on him.  You take in his musk with a huff, it intoxicates you as your bodies sway to the vocal coolness of Syd.  Your heart pounds as you feel yourself becoming heated from the contact between you. T’Challa’s hand rubs your back as his face rests against your head.  You can feel him humming through the vibrations of his vocal chords traveling along his jaw. He plays with your hand, kissing it to bring your gaze back to his.  

His eyes are deep, dilated as he formulates his words.  “You haven’t left my mind since the day I met you. And you haven’t left my heart since that first date.”

You feel butterflies in your stomach, a stone in your throat, and your heartbeat between your legs.  “Oh, T’Challa. I don’t know what I did for the universe to put us together, but I hope it keeps happening.”  You say.

T’Challa’s hand reaches for your face, stroking your cheek.  “I hope so too. And can I say, I wish it was my doing that the song began to play during dinner?  I just hit shuffle and luckily it worked in my favor.” T’Challa smiled as the apple of his cheeks popped.

You giggle at him, “You know I kind of figured something like that.  Not the first time an accident got us closer.” 

T’Challa’s eye dart over your face before settling on your lips.  Your hands grip the sides of his shirt in anticipation as your entire body throbs lively.  He looks to your eyes once more as gravity brings your faces closer together. Your lips barely touch as you feel T’Challa’s grip tighten around your waist.  He leads, deepening the kiss as your knees go weak. T’Challa’s kisses were the most intense you have ever experienced; any doubt of his attraction or intentions with you melted as you open your mouth to welcome his tongue.  Your kiss becomes ravenous as you claw his back, T’Challa’s hands have migrated to your ass, firmly kneading your cheeks as his excitement begins to poke through.

Breaking from the kiss, T’Challa asks, “Do you want to go up to my room?”

You are still in a daze of horniness as you mindlessly nod yes.  He could’ve asked you to do the worm on the Sun’s surface and you would’ve been fine and dandy.  T’Challa takes your hand upstairs to his bedroom. You walk in to see the long, open windows overseeing the city miles away from them.  His bed is fit for a king; a canopy made of deep mahogany with the see-through curtains pulled back, ornate pillows decorating the head of the bed.  Your breath is taken by the sight as T’Challa’s lips stamp your shoulder with his signature. Your neck gives way as your head leans back, T’Challa’s hands grip your hips possessively, pulling you into him.  You reach for his head, digging your nails into his curls as you grind against him slowly. T’Challa moans low into your neck as you tease him. 

His hands start to pull up the hem of your dress but you swiftly turn backing away from him smiling.  “You think you can get me, Chacha?” you ask.

T’Challa points his chin at you as takes his necklace off, tossing it on the table.  He reaches for the bottom of his shirt, lifting it over his head. You gawk as you see him in all his glory.  His stomach taut, muscles embossed along his abdomen. His chest and biceps filled with the power he is ready to unleash upon you.  You lick your lips subconsciously at all the deep toned melanin you wanted to attempt to lick off of him. It could never happen, but he’d be your personal everlasting jawbreaker.

T’Challa stalks slowly towards you, “I think I have already got you, Ms. Macchiato.”  

He wasn’t lying about that.  It wasn’t fair for him to pull all of that out on you, leaving you speechless.  When T’Challa came face to face with you, he dips down to lift your legs up, making you fall backwards on the bed with your legs wrapped around him in one swift motion.

Your breath catches in your chest as T’Challa dives onto you, kissing you passionately, he holds your hands up over your head with one hand as his other hand travels under your dress.”

You break from kissing him, “T’Challa, I wanted to tell you something.”

T’Challa makes a snack of your neck as he half listens, “Tell me what you need, umhle.”

The bass in his voice coupled with his hands reaching for the top of your underwear as your hips squirm for pleasure made it hard to think straight.  “Uh, I need to talk to you for a second.”

T’Challa gets up, eyes heavy lidded as he pauses, “Do you mean that erotically, or more serious?”

You release your hands from his as he rolls off of you.  You pull your dress down suddenly filled with shame and embarrassment.  The tears start to creep in, even though you don’t want them to.

T’Challa notices, taking one of your hands, “(Y/N) what’s wrong?”

You laugh nervously to distract from the couple of drops that fall to your cheeks which you wipe away quickly.  You curse yourself for bringing down the mood. “Nothing, T’Challa, I just….”

T’Challa’s brow is furrowed with concern, “You can’t tell me nothing is wrong, you are crying.  Did I hurt you? If we were moving too fast, we can stop-”

You get up to move away from T’Challa.  Crossing your arms, you rock yourself in place to calm down.  You weren’t sure how he would react, if at all. You kept telling yourself before now it wasn’t a big deal, it was a social construct after all.  You knew pleasure on your own but still the weight of entrusting your body to someone else was equivalent to dangling from a building.

T’Challa looks up at you, sitting on the edge of the bed leaning on his knees.  “Please talk to me. I don’t want to offend you, but I can’t fix myself without you telling me what I did.”

Your mouth goes dry as you try to work up the nerve, “I feel like you should know something before we go into this.”

T’Challa nods, waiting.  

“And...I really thought I was up for it without telling you about it but it just backfired so quickly, ever since I got here, I knew I had to tell you.”

A pause settles between you both.  T’Challa looks at the floor thoughtfully, “Whatever it is, I still care for you.  More than you know.”

This doesn’t help stopping your tears as you smile, wiping them away.  “Ok, uh, well. I’m a virgin, T’Challa.”

You look at him expectantly.  You wait for his face to drop, for him to laugh, for him to tell you to get out for wasting his time.  Instead he just looks at you blankly.

“T’Challa, can you say something?  Anything?”

His mouth slacks open a second before he continues, “I want to choose my words carefully here, because you are already quite emotional.  Can I hug you first?”

You bite your lip to keep from tearing up some more as you nod.  He gets up to pull you in. The skin of his chest is even more comfortable than his shirt as you nuzzle into him taking deep breaths while T’Challa rubs your back.  

“Umhle, your virginity is both not a factor to how I see and yet very important to me.”  He pulls back to look at you. “This helps me to understand so much more about you.”

You sigh, “I didn’t want to be obvious about it.  If the delivery guy hadn’t came on time, I probably would’ve let you have it without a word that night.  But the planning and the dinner and The Internet, it got a bit too much. Like I really, really like you, T’Challa.”

T’Challa rests his forehead on yours as you calm down.  “That is Chacha to you, Ms. Macchiato.”

You laugh while T’Challa plants soft kisses on your forehead, cheeks, jawline.  “I’m glad that it didn’t happen then. I want nothing but perfection for you, and we don’t have to until it is.”

You look up at his face; his eyes are in complete adoration of you.  You reach for his hairline, stroking his widow’s peak, causing T’Challa to close his eyes slowly, as if in a trance.  You take this moment to meet your lips with his, kissing him slowly before parting his lips with your tongue to raise the passion as T’Challa pulls you in closer to him.  

Your lips smack away as you look to him.  “This is perfect for me. Right here, right now.”

T’Challa caresses your cheek, looking at you intently.  “I am willing to do whatever you want to. Tell me what you want.”

Your arousal builds again naturally at his kindness as you nod.  “You can take the lead, I’ll just let you know what works and doesn’t.”

You and T’Challa share a smile while he leads you back to the bed.  T’Challa sits on the bed as you stand in front of him. His hands travel up your thighs as hands reach for the hem of your dress, looking up at you for approval.  You nod as you help him halfway to raise it above your head and off.

T’Challa takes your hips and pulls you to him as he kisses your belly.  You hug his head, working his scalp as he reaches for your bra behind you.  Having undone the hooks he looks up to you, “Take it off for me.”

You oblige, working the strap slowly as you let your girls loose.  As relieved as you were to be free and open, a moment flashed in your brain about how your breasts may not be perky enough for him, or your areolas not being compact enough, but T’Challa knew just what to do to take those thoughts away.  He hissed as took them in his hands, thumbing over your nipples to erect them.

“Lay down for me, umhle.”  He asked while undoing his pants.

You make your way to the middle of the bed, moving some of the pillows off on the floor before laying down.  His back muscles contract as you watch him pulls his pants off, still amazed at his physique. T’Challa’s boxer briefs hug his hips giving you just a peak of the cut to his V in his pelvis.  He looks at you smiling as he crawled across the bed. You bite back your smile. “You have the cutest little booty, Chacha. Just enough cheekage.”

T’Challa laughs as he comes up between our legs over you.  “It gets me where I need to go.” He says as his eyes aim for your breasts again.  He looks up at you as he kisses your nipples to gauge your reaction. T’Challa looked so adorable when he was being careful with you, like you could fly away at any moment and wanted so much to keep you there.  You stretch your arms out to relieve some tension, fingering his hair and nodding your approval. He takes on breast and laps at your nipple slowly. 

You reel your head back at the sensation.  “Unf, dammit.” You curse out the air as he satisfies you.  He works your other titty with the tip of his tongue, before enclosing his lips around your breast completely.  Your thighs clamped around his torso as you squirm, hyperventilating underneath him. You call his name out with a whimper as he remains relentless, squeezing his head as he feeds off of you, sending your body into a wave of pleasure.

Coming off of you, T’Challa looks at you inquisitively, “Are you that sensitive there?”

You breathe hard to come down looking at the ceiling, “Hell if I knew!” you scoff.

T’Challa kisses your neck lovingly, “You are amazing.”  His fingers find the waist of your panties, pulling them down from under you.  You shoot your legs into the air as he takes them off. T’Challa keeps them up, hugging him to his body, caressing them, “Have I worn you out already, umhle?”

You were warm from the titular stimulation, but definitely could go for more advanced maneuvers.  Seeing T’Challa in control over you was the biggest turn on for you, and you trusted him for every part of it.  “I mean, that was good, but I definitely need some release elsewhere, Chacha.”

T’Challa shrugs, “Ok.” He parts your legs slowly, which causes you to feel your sex even more than before, as your lips parted with the shift of your legs.  Your walls performed for its audience, waiting to be greeted. T’Challa doesn’t take his eyes off of your pussy, making you squirm with anxiety. Was something wrong?

He puts his hands on your thighs, massaging you still, “Relax, (Y/N).  I’m just taking in your full beauty. I like to marvel.” He smiles at you before laying down prone in between you.  

“Have you been licked before?”  T’Challa asks. You shake your head wordlessly.  “Ok, I need you to tell me what feels good, eh? Don’t hold back.”  T’Challa asks of your seriously.

You smile nodding.  You are suddenly struck mute since this experience has begun with him.   That doesn’t last long once he unfurls his tongue over your inner lips. Your back bends as his tongue zigzags between your lips before flicking the bulb of your clit.

“Ohhh, fuck!”  you whisper. You rest your legs over his back as you get comfortable for him to do his work. You look down at T’Challa’s eyes smizing as you exclaim pleasure.  He puts his strong lips on your clit, working you like a pie eating contest champ. Your whole body curls up as you grab his head to stay where he was.

“Shiiiit, Chacha, I’m gonna cum. I-”  but T’Challa gets off of you before you finish.  “Ohhh, come on. Why’d you stop?” you whine.

T’Challa gets up, wiping his mouth, tasting your leftovers.  “I don’t want you to be too tired, umhle. That’s called edging.”  He goes to take off his briefs.

You sit up watching his dick spring free in all its glory.  Your nerves started to creep up again. Big dick is what everybody want but where would all that go?  T’Challa goes for his nightstand to take out a condom. Sitting on the bed, you get up to rest your face on his shoulder.

“What?”  T’Challa smiles looking at you confused.

“I want to watch you do it, is all.  I like to marvel.” you say teasingly.  T’Challa opens the package to slip the rubber over his tip.  You take your hand over his as you slide it down his shaft slowly.  T’Challa bites his lip as you felt his length gently.

“You gettin this hard for me, Chacha?”  you say seductively as you kiss his ear.

T’Challa takes a deep breath.  “You are so beautiful and sweet and sexy, I cannot help it.”  You all kiss once more as you lean back on the bed and he hovers over you.  You touch his face for a reminder to yourself. That the man above you cares about you, could even possibly love you.  You comb through his curls as he speaks, “Umhle, I am so happy you have opened up to me tonight.”

You smile, “If my thighs never meet again, it’s worth it.”  

T’Challa smiles, kissing you once more before aiming himself towards your entrance.  You reach down between you to help him out. T’Challa holds himself up as you guide him, his hips naturally push into you.  You lay back, holding onto his forearms for support as he begins his descent. You close your eyes as your walls expand to accomodate his girth.  

“Look at me, (Y/N).”  T’Challa commands. You open your eyes hesitantly.  “Are you ok?”

You nod speechless.  You didn’t want to hurt, but you were getting a bit panicky.

T’Challa reaches his fingers down to your clit, rubbing it gently.  Your mouth gapes open as your gasp at the feeling, reigniting your slickness.  His fingers moved as he continued to go into you, easier now.

“Oh, that’s it, Chacha.”  you say caressing his arms as you began to feel good.  

T’Challa bites his lips, grunting as he enters you fully.  “You feel so good, umhle.” He begins to pull back, creating a rhythm.  Your pussy has already begun to talk back as his hips churned with yours.  

T’Challa breathes heavily over you, “How’s that?”

You groan as he beats it up, your hands grip the sides of his abdomen for dear life, “Shiiiit, Cha, that’s it, baby, right there.”

T’Challa rests his body on top of yours as he picked the pace up.  His hips dipping to get his tip against your G spot. You tighten your legs around him to ensure he stays deep.

“Ah!  Don’t stop,  Chacha, I’m coming, please, ah!”  You scratch his back, biting into his shoulder to muffle your shrieks. Your orgasm is drug out for so long you beg for mercy.  

Luckily your walls were choking his dick good, “(Y/N), agh, Bast!   _ Ndikuthanda kakhulu ngenene!  Ah!”  _  He thrusted into you a couple more times before going still against you.  He peppered you with sweet kisses, which you reciprocated before rolling off of you to go to the bathroom.  

You laid there, pulsating after your vigorous activity. You watch him walk away, bite mark on his shoulder, scratches across his back.   Looking up at the ceiling you started laughing to yourself. You finally got some, and it as good. Makes not losing it as a teenager so damn worth it.

T’Challa walks back out to the bed, looking a bit shy.  You pat the space next to you, completely invigorated. You snuggle up to him as he hugs you into his chest.

“That was so good, Chacha.  Ugh, I didn’t expect to feel so good after.”

T’Challa chuckles to himself while rubbing your arm.  “I knew it would. It was gonna be good just to be with you.”  

You look up at him, “You always know just what to say.”  Kissing him, a thought crossed your mind. “What was that you said when you, you know.”

T’Challa hesitated to answer, “I can’t be held accountable for what I say during sex, umhle.”

You rested your head on his chest, “I know, I just wondered because I couldn’t understand it, you know?  Was it dirty?”

“Ahh, nothing said between two loving people in passion is dirty.”  You feel his body freeze up after saying this. 

You furrow your brow sitting up, “Two loving people?”

T’Challa crosses his arms, “A slip of the tongue?”

“Chacha, did you say you love me when you came?”  you asked outright.

T’Challa licked his lips nervously.  “I don’t mean to put you in that kind of position, just, I was feeling good, enjoying you, it kind of-”

“Do you love me?” 

T’Challa looked at you eyes wide with anxiety as he hugged himself. “I--think I do.”

You pull the covers back to straddle him, wrapping your arms around his neck, “You think, or you know?”  You take his mouth to yours as you take his words into your mouth. You loved him, and he loved you. As you grinded against him, you coaxed him into making love to you again.  This time was more spirited, less tentative, more vigorous and long lasting. This time no language barriers on your proclamations for each other. 

The next morning you rolled over to the smell of breakfast greeting your nose as you freshened up to meet your man downstairs.  As you brush your teeth, you see his beaded bracelet on the sink. You put it on to try it on. Maybe he could get you your own.  As you admire the carvings, pressing on them a light juts out and a hologram of Shuri pops up.

“What do you want, bro- oh!  You are T’Challa’s friend. Hello!”

You yip as you take the beads off, dropping them to the floor, the call drops.  Rinsing your mouth out, you go downstairs. T’Challa would have to explain why he has tech that you have only seen in movies.

T’Challa is at the stove, scrambling some eggs.  You notice the marks on his body are completely gone from last night.  You touch him, causing T’Challa to look back.

“Oh, good morning, my love.  Did you sleep well?”

You furrow your brow, “You had marks on you, I marked you up pretty good but they are gone now.”

T’Challa shrugs, “Must’ve been lighter than you thought.  Breakfast is almost done.”

“T’Challa where do you get hologram tech from?”

He freezes, “You picked up my kimoyo beads?”

“If that’s what they are called yeah, your bracelet.  Shuri popped right out of it.”

T’Challa sighed, “I have a connection that makes new tech-”

“America does not even do portable hologram for calling, T’Challa.  You wouldn’t need that for community service. Are you lying to me about something?”

T’Challa turns to face you. “I can’t lie to you.”

You pace the floor now.  “When you went away to see your family, what happened, T’Challa?  What does your family do?”

He looks at you trying to fight your inquisition, “I don’t have anything to hide from you.”

“Then what is it?  Your family, nice house, tech, fast healing skin.  What is the story?”

  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

 

 

T’Challa crosses his arms exhaling deeply.  You try not to get distracted by his beautiful titties. “So you don’t want to eat breakfast then?”

You raise a hand in exasperation.  “I really can’t eat with something hanging over my head like this.  I’m serious, if you weren’t about to tell me something big, it would’ve came out of your mouth by now.”

T’Challa walks over to you, reaching gently to hold your hands.  He looks down at you calmly. “I told you I loved you. Quicker than I meant to, but I meant it.  Do you love me?”

You look away from him taking a large breath in your chest.  “You stole my heart quicker than anybody has even came close to.  But that’s not what’s being questioned right now,” you say with a whiny inflection to your voice. 

“Then take a walk with me.  We can get some fresh air, and we can talk along the way.”  T’Challa heads upstairs to get dressed.

“You will be doing the talking, sir!”  You yell after him as you sit at the island.  Cupping your chin in your hand, you sigh heavily over what is to come.  It would be your luck to have slept with someone who turns out to be problematic.  Just like every slasher movie, the person doing the fucking gets the axe next. First they gain your trust, your pussy, and lastly, your soul.  You contemplated texting your codeword to Tavia but decided to hold off until you at least SEE dead bodies or the like.

T’Challa has a garden trail behind his place that you walk through with him.  It distracts you for a moment, as you survey the gorgeous petals and leaves that surround you.  The air smells sweet as it wafts around and T’Challa got a kick out of you admiration.

“That one?  It is the amaryllis.  You like it?” T’Challa asks.

“It is so beautiful.  I never seen one in real life before.”  You go to touch it.

T’Challa grabs you, pulling you back.  “Aye!! Don’t! It is quite poisonous to the skin, please refrain.”  T’Challa warns, shaking his head at you.

Your heart pounds at the thought, “Geez, why the hell don’t you have a barrier around it or-”

T’Challa slowly begins to smile, giggling at your worried expression.  “You are so gullible! It’s cute.” 

You swat him away as he tries to kiss you apologetically.  “You are really a piece of work, to scare me like that. So no, I don’t like that stinkin flower!”

T’Challa throws his head back in a hearty laugh as you stomp away from him, offended.  T’Challa catches up with you, blocking your path. “Look, I am sorry, (Y/N). I was just trying to keep things light.”

You look at his round, dark eyes, looking at you with complete sincerity.  You kiss your teeth, “I haven’t forgotten what we are here for. Spill it.”

T’Challa looks around, “I haven’t got a cup-”

“T’Challa!”  you bark demandingly.

T’Challa looks at you like a wounded puppy, “I like Chacha better, to be honest, but come, let’s continue around.”

A couple minutes go by before T’Challa starts again.  “I have told you most of where I am from and my family, eh?  That I am from Wakanda, my family has a certain status, I am doing community work here; that in itself is all true.”

You nod, “Ok, now tell me what you haven’t told me.”

T’Challa purses his lips.  “I have a certain status because of my family.  They are heads of the state, so to speak.”

“Sooo, they work in the government?”  you ask.

T’Challa half nods, “Close.  It is different than how it is done here in America.  It is more of a monarchy.”

You stop in your tracks.  “You mean….”

T’Challa waits for you to finish, expectantly.  “You are like a Prince? Or a King?”

T’Challa bows to you dramatically.  “That is correct, madam.”

You scoff, surprised at this news.  “Well, which is it? How?”

T’Challa straightens up, clearing his throat.  “I was a Prince when you met me. But I lost my father recently and now the title of King has been brought to me.”  

You look at him before he turns to walk ahead of you.  He gets quiet, his eyes going sad.

You catch up to him, holding his hand as you walk.  “T’Challa, I am sorry for your loss. Why didn’t you tell me?”  you ask softly.

“I didn’t want you to have that on you so early into our relationship.  Plus, I wouldn’t have made good company while mourning.” T’Challa says, dismissively.

You shake your head, “That shouldn’t matter!  I want to know you, all of you. And that is a part of you that you have been keeping from me for too long.”  You look at him as he stares at the ground sadly. “But it is not your fault, I get why you did. It’s...a lot to lose a parent.  I lost my father when I was in college to prostate cancer. Some of the roughest days of my life were during then.”

T’Challa looks to you, brow furrowed.  “I’m so sorry, sithandwa sam. You and your father were close?”

You shrug, “Not very, honestly.  I think I mourned more for the moments with him and information about that side of my family that I will never get to know since he passed.”  You sigh heavily, rubbing your forehead, suddenly tired.

T’Challa and you stop walking and face each other.  “Let me take you back to the house, get you fed, take a break.  Then we can talk some more. It’s nice knowing more about you, and I imagine you are more curious about me?”

You nod smiling, “Like, what is royal living like?  And that makes Shuri a princess, right? Oh my God, does she have nice dresses?”  You propel questions at him like an automatic.

T’Challa rolls his eyes, holding back a smile. “Alright, enough.  Come on, before I change my mind on feeding you, eh?”

Once you all get back to the house, while eating, you learn  little more about his home and family. You learn T’Challa’s father passed in an assassination attempt that left him in a coma until it was decided he should no longer suffer.  Also, about how rich Wakanda truly was.

“So, Wakanda being poor is a front to protect yourselves and the vibrato?”  you ask trying to piece things together.

T’Challa smiles at your mispronunciation, “Vibranium.  And yes, since it is the most powerful resource on the planet, it was in our best interest to keep it to ourselves without the world knowing.”

You put your fork down, thinking a moment.  “So much happened in the world between then and now.  Did you all ignore it? I would think helping in any way would leave you open to exposure.”

“We do help from time to time.  We have what are called War Dogs stationed in almost every country to gather intel and sometimes even intervene in conflict, stealthily.”

You shake your head, unable to wrap your head completely around it.  “So why are you here in America? With the community center and outreach?  Are you planning to share your secrets?”

T’Challa turns to you, leaning his elbow on the island you all were sitting at.  “It has come time for us to do so. It has been addressed for many years about Wakanda opening its borders and educating others on what we possess to figure out how we share that with others.  I have always been hesitant at the thought, but I have slowly accepted the reality of it all.”

“What made you change your mind?”  you inquire.

T’Challa wiggles in his chair as he thinks.  “There were certain citizens of Wakanda who created an uproar over our closed minded policies.  I have a friend who counsels me from time to time and she gave an adamant argument that finally hit my brain.”

You swallow at the thought of a woman being close enough to him to help make his mind up, but you don’t want to indulge jealousy.  “Well, I would agree with it. That’s like one of those questions on a Buzzfeed quiz. ‘If you had something that would help the world, would you a) keep it to yourself. b) share it with family.  c) share with the world. d) pawn it to get some J’s.’”

T’Challa looks at you, cradling your face in his hand.  “I’m glad you feel that way. It has been a long time coming but I think Wakanda is turning towards the good parts of our story now.”  

A thought passes your mind that you decide to act on.  “So did you not tell me, because you didn’t trust me, or…”

T’Challa shakes his head vigorously.  “No, that was not it at all. I just don’t announce that part of me with a handshake.  People change when they know someone of a higher status and that does not give me their true spirit.  But you have always came to me genuinely; and I have loved every moment with you. Tell the truth: if I told you about me being royal when we met, would you have continued after me?”

You side eye him.  “Uh, uh. I didnt come AFTER you, first of all; makin me sound all thirsty….but probably not, you right.”

“See?  And look what we would’ve missed out on.”  He pauses a moment, eyes suddenly downturned.  “I wish you could’ve met him. He would’ve gotten a kick out of your humor and admire your beauty.”

Your heart was full at the thought, taking T’Challa’s long hands in your stubby ones.  “I bet you he is enjoying me now. Looking down at his son in love with a WONDERFUL woman-”  T’Challa grins; the apples of his cheeks threatening to pop right out. “...a woman who adores him just the same.”  Your hand grazes the beads on his wrist. “And this technology is still blowing my mind. I just thought it was a cute bracelet, but it’s so much more.  So dope.”

T’Challa takes it off, replacing it on your wrist.  “T’Challa, for real? What about-”

T’Challa waves you off.  “Eh, we have many more of those.  They may be what, few thousand in US dollars, conversion rates are escaping me at the moment.  My sister is so often updating them, she is probably due to recycle that one anyway. But I’ll let her know to keep it live for you.  This way, we can communicate on a more reliable network than these cellular devices can.”

You admire the carvings and the cold, weighted metal of the beads.  “You really bout to trust me with something that has a comma in the price tag, just to hang on my wrist?  My God, well you just gotta tell me how to work this thing.”

T’Challa nods, “I will.  I’ll show you all about it, but let me say thank you; for hearing me out and accepting me.”

You looked at him with surprise.  “Thank me? Chacha, I am the one in the presence of royalty!  Are you kidding me? Thank you!”

T’Challa leans in close to you, dropping his voice low, “I will not have you demoting your status to me with all that I have told you.  We are equals in my eyes, eh? Truly only a supreme being could give me the joy that you have since I have met you. Please don’t change because of….this.”  T’Challa waves around the extravagance of his place.

You meet his lean with a kiss, peppering his mouth with tender love pecks.  “I have no plans of changing. You are still my Chacha. I just...have to adjust a little bit, you know?” 

T’Challa grips your thighs, eyes clouding with desire.  “You adjust very well, I must say.” He kisses you, deeper this time.  His tongue takes away your critical thoughts, filling your mind with fantasy and heat.  

As his hands travel up your legs, you break from him, taking a breath.  “I’m sorry T’Challa-”

T’Challa clears his throat and looks away, dejectedly.  “It’s fine, I understand you needing time with all that I told you today-”

You shake your head, “No, no!  I’m ok with that, really. It’s not the end of the world that you are the head of a nation with more duckets than anyone has ever seen.  It’s just….I’m a little worn out still?”

T’Challa blinks, taken aback, “Oh?  Oh, I’m sorry about that, I didn’t mean to be so-”

“No, please, stop apologizing.  I enjoyed myself, probably too much.  But no worries.” You give him a quick kiss before standing up.  “Uh, if you didn’t have plans today I think I’ll head out.”

T’Challa stands, putting his hands in his pockets.  “Ok, sure. I’ll drive you back.”

“I’d like that.”  

\---

T’Challa drops you off at your apartment, promising to call you later to help you with your kimoyo beads.

Making your way up to the apartment, you open the door to see Tavia sitting, eating a sheet cake.

“Oh shit!  SURPRISE!!”  She has a bag of confetti, tossing it in your face, blowing a horn in celebration.  

“Dang, Tavia, chill!!  Who’s cleanin that up??”  You say in frustration but happy to see her happy for you.

Tavia shrugs, “We can check the chore chart and the records on who has been cleaning the most since you have been all up on a new man in your life, taking up all your time?”  Tavia blinks at you, daring you to rebuttal.

You roll your eyes, “Ugh! Whatever.  Anyways, what’s alladis?” You look at the section of uneaten cake, reading the message in frosting.

“‘Congrats on losing the...’  What is that, a broken wishbone?

Tavia nodded proudly, “It kinda looks like a V, and I was stuck between poppin cherry and losing the V card, so broken wishbone does both...kinda!”

“Girl, you made the bakery do this?  I hope you tipped. They oughta ban your ass.”  You take a fork and eat a piece. “That’s some good shit though.  My situation ain’t call for all this, but cool.”

“Mhm, I know it is!  And I dare you to name one occasion that a sheet cake don’t fit into…..that’s what I thought.  Now! Come on down! Auntie Ta Ta been ready and waiting to get the deTAILS! How was your night?”

You all sit on the couch as you reminisce on the evening you and T’Challa had.  “I mean, it was so, so good! He cooked dinner, it was delicious. There was music playing, we talked and shit.  He got me up to dance with him-”

Tavia hits a body roll, “Tonight I’m gonna dance for youuuu, Oh Oh oooh oh!”

You pop her leg, “Shut up! We dance real fairytale like, he was a gentleman, and I was a lady.”

“Ok, but for how long?”  Tavia says bucking her eyes at you.

You sigh deeply, “I mean, we sway, and keep talkin.  He sayin some sweet shit to me and then we kiss, and it gets a little heavy, so he takes me to his room-”

“Wait!  Did his spot look nice?”

Your mouth drops at the memory, “Oh my God!  Yes! It was sprawling! He lives in the rich area, by the way.  It was hella secluded, but girl, he had black cabinets, steel fridge, wide windows, furniture that I could only test in store, much less even think about taking home with me.  It even smelled good in there, like hakuna matata and BDE.”

Tavia fans herself, “You haven’t even gotten to the good good and I’m already spent.  He got moneeeyy!!”

“Right?  So, we go up; I’m feeling on him, he up on me and we eventually…. have sex and it is...magic.”  

“Ok, now did he know you were a virgin?”

You shake your head.  “No, but I told him right before it went there and he was cool about it.”

Tavia nods slowly, “Dope shit, to Mr. Tallahassee.  So! Did he go…” She points downward.

“I was on the menu that night, yes.”  You say stoically, looking at your nails.

Tavia pops you now.  “Oh bitch, shut up! You so wack!  But awesome! Ain’t that shit the best?”

“More than I ever imagined.  He put in the work, and the power of it all?  Like I could crush him if I wanted to? Ugh! I could get used to it.”

Tavia rubs her hands together.  “And lastly, the main event. What is he rockin with?”

You look at the ceiling, “Well, I’d say it was ten maybe, just looking at it.  It was thick too though, took my damn breath away.”

Tavia snapped in the air, “Blessings on blessings!  Work that pussy!”

You look at Tavia with feigned disgust.  “You blasphemous heffa…”

“Haha!!  Oh well! He knows my heart!  Well then, he made you breakfast or whatever after?  Wasn’t nothin weird?”

You thought about telling her he said he loves you, or that he is a King.  But you didn’t want to put all of that out, right now anyway. “No, nothing weird.  He was back to being a gentleman but I had to come back to recoup. I wouldn’t get no rest staying there, nahmsayin??”

You all laugh out loud, high fiving each other.  “So when we finna celebrate? I’m tryna catch somethin too, and we need to drink to a new chapter in your life.!”  Tavia suggests.

“Yeah, we can Thursday or sometime this coming weekend.  But for now I am beat.” Before you get up, Tavia grabs your wrist.

“He gave you gifts too?  What’s this?” She touches over the beads.

You take you hand back a little too quick.  “Uh, yeah. It’s from his homeland. He gave them to me this morning.”

Tavia stretches her face, impressed.  “You know, in some states that’s considered prostitution-”

You get up in a rush, “OK!  You have a good night!”

Tavia shouts after you, “Ain’t nuthin wrong with it, girl!  We all gotta make a livin!”

You shut your room door shaking your head at your friends jests.  Her craziness was entertaining but it could go overboard in one breath.  Laying yourself out on your bed, you grab your plushie, T’Challa Jr. Caressing the soft fur, you remember twisting his curls between your fingers, his eyes looking up at you from between your legs.  You shiver at the thought; that man had you whipped. You didn’t want to watch TV and suddenly you didn’t feel tired at all. All you wanted was him again, with his weight on top of you, tangled in bliss.  You rolled over, checking your phone for any word from him. Nothing yet, he was probably still on the road back to his spot. 

You turn on your TV in vain, watching the pictures go by, but paying no attention to the plot or characters.  Looking at your wrist, you study the symbols on each bead. T’Challa was just a press away, if you knew how to use it.  

\-----

Your work week began with a bang.  Piles and piles of forms to sift through, customer’s giving you hell for things that weren’t your fault.  Just another day in paradise, thankfully the week was almost through. 

T’Challa had been busy the last few days with a back to school rally at the community center.  They were recruiting for business as well as supplying families with clothes, supplies, and food vouchers to get their school year started right.

You strum your beads slowly on your wrist, which has become a coping mechanism for you since you got them; a much less ridiculous way to think of your man than to carry a stuffed panther with you.

Suddenly you phone buzzes next to you, displaying the name that made your heart pound in your choche.

“H-Hello?  Chacha?” you say excitedly.

“Hello, Ms. Macchiato.  I finally got you. Working hard?”  T’Challa asks, voice smiling.

You rub the crust out of your eyes, “No, not at all.  I am just enjoying some leisurely on the clock massages and cocktails with a clear mind and empty desk to prop my feet on.”  

T’Challa guffaws, “Oh, well I don’t want to keep you.  I wondered if you wanted a quick walk through of the kimoyo beads?”

“Sure!  Please, instruct away!  Anything to take my mind off of other things.”  You say demonstratively.

T’Challa chuckles, “Yes, well, you should see a bead with square that had three lines in the middle, do you?”

You turn the piece around your wrist until you see it.  “Yeah, I do.”

“Ok, so this is what you would press to make a call.  If you were Wakandan, all yu would have to do is think of me and I would connect, but I had Shuri adjust the settings so that is  my line, no thinking necessary.”

You nod in awe, “Wow, that is cool.  Can I try it now?”

“Sure!  Give it a shot.”

You press the bead which emits a soft light and T’Challa appears in front of you, from the mid-torso, up.

You gawk, twisting your hand to look behind him, waving your hand through him.

“Aye!  Stop that!”  T’Challa squawks.

You jump like you didn’t expect him to notice.  “Oh, sorry! Can you feel that?”

T’Challa laughs, “No!  But I see you, perfectly confused.”

You smile looking at your mini man in the palm of your hand.    “Will I see you on my lunch break today?”

T’Challa looks down, pursing his lips.

“....or any day this weekend?”  you say, sounding more down. 

“Ahhh, (y/n), don’t do that.  I can’t stand to see your disappointment.”  T’Challa coos.

“Well here it is, in all its glory.”  You wave your free hand in front of your face, changing your expression from happy to sad.

“Tsk.  I just have alot going on right now.  You know there isn’t anywhere I’d rather be than right next to you...holding you...kissing you.  I miss it terribly.”

You fidget at his sweet talk, he’s not even there and has you worked up something terrible.  “Please, I am at work…”

T’Challa looks you up and down, “That doesn’t have to hold us back.  That’s why I gave them to you. I can see you, all of you, whenever the moment allows…”

You feel heat rolling through your body, clutching your thighs together.  “T’Challa, do you mean-”

“I mean every word of what I said, what are you talking about?”  T’Challa says cooly.

You throw your head back, “Chacha, you can’t work me up like this at my job, it’s too-”

“Hey!  You got a sec!”  a voice says behind you.

You close your palm around the hologram, hoping you got it to shut off before turning around to see your co-worker.

“Yeah, Jeff.  Whatcha need?”  You say exasperatedly, as the horniness drains out of you.

“I have some documents that were left off the initial pile of last week’s work.  Did you happen to finish it yet?”

You point to the pile, “I got about ¾ of the way through….”

“Ooof, well, if you don’t mind, you will have to start it over again to work these few into the system properly.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “And who’s fault would that be?  I was given the work, why wasn’t it handed to me completely?”

He shrugs, unbothered, “Kinda how things go sometimes around here.  I gotta jet; vacation won’t take itself. See ya!”

As he walks away, you turn to your pile, re-sorting the ‘Done’ side back to the ‘To Do’.  This was gonna be a long day. You send a text to Tavia. 

**_You tryna get out tonight or nah?_ **

Not even a minute passed.   _ HELL YEEEEAAAHH  _

\----

The night began with a bottle of Crown Royal Apple and a trap playlist.  You and Tavia moved around the apartment getting down and feeling good.

“You know, Nicki did it with this one.  The project as a whole might not always slap, but this right here?? SLAPS.”  Tavia yelled over the track, brushing down her baby hairs.

You come into her bathroom, gigging with it.  “No doubt. This goes in! And look at you, Ms. Bodycon!  You got it goin on!” 

Tavia does a twirl for full view, “Like I said, I’m fishin.  They just better not make me waste my bait.”

You survey your outfit; crop top, high waist shorts showing off all your hips and thighs for the world to see.  Your gold gladiator sandals wind up your calf as you fluff your faux hawk hairdo.

Tavia looks back at you in the mirror, “And you Miss Thing, better let me live.  You dressed like you catching too, I need you as a wingwoman.”

You hug Tavia from behind, “You know I got you, girl!  Don’t trip! Remember, we are celebrating-”

“That REJUVENATED PUSSY BIIIIITCH!”  Tavia says, livening up again.

You all take a Lyft down to the club; Tavia chats up the Lyft driver the whole way there.  You are feeling more intoxicated than you expected, but in a way you are glad because you won’t have to buy any drinks.  

Getting up to the club, you all get right up in line.  It was free before 11pm if you signed up online. Tavia got y’all down for that and strolled right past the bouncers as you make your way inside.

Lights were flashing and smoke filled the air as Tavia started swirling her hips around to the DJs mix.

Tavia yells in your ears, “Let’s get to the bar!”

You shake your head, “No, I think I might be set.  But I’ll go with you.”

Pushing through the crowd, you all make it to the alcohol soaked bar as the bartenders run up and down like a cricket match.  

Tavia tries waving down one of them, but a guy gets her attention.  “You need a drink, baby?”

The guy had tack gold teeth, cornrows and looked like an older version of Malibu’s Most Wanted.  But Tavia works with what she’s got. “Yeah, me and my friend actually. You got a friend?”

He points behind as a guy with locs comes up towering over you both.  He smiles, but his golds look way more appealing.

“Wassup, girl?  Whatcha name?” He looks at Tavia, eyes burning into her very soul. 

Tavia is completely shooketh.  “I uh, I’m Tavia. Nice to meet you.”

He takes her hands in his, slowly rubbing the back of hers.  He smirks a little, deepening the dimple in his cheek. “Nah, pleasure’s all mine.  I’m Erik. She got a name?” 

You didn’t even notice anything as you were drunkenly texting T’Challa ‘you up?’ texts.

Tavia jabs you in your side as you shoot a look at the man in front of you all.  “Oh hey.”

Tavia kisses her teeth, “This is (Y/N).  She can be rude sometimes, but a drink would cheer us right on up!”  Tavia says, putting on her best toothpaste commercial smile.

Erik, without looking, takes out his wallet, slapping some money on the counter.  “Get whatever you want. ladies. Lookin so good, you all deserve it.”

Tavia snatches up the money, before finally getting a bartender.  Erik stares at you, unabashedly, up and down your body. You felt completely exposed, no longer confident in your belly showing top, and thigh riding shorts.

Tavia passes a drink back to you.  “There you go, babe. Bottoms up!” Tavia knocks one back.  

You take a sip, checking your phone again for T’Challa’s response.  He said he would meet you at the club.

Tavia talks Erik’s ear off as the night goes on.  The whole time he keeps a watch on you, winking when your eyes met.  You felt a churning in your stomach as the lights messed with your eyesight, making your head spin.

“Hey, Tavia.  I gotta go I think.  T’Challa is supposed to be picking me up anyway.”

Tavia looks disappointed.  “Oh nooo!! You’re kidding! Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

Erik puts a hand on her shoulder.  “You good. I’ll take her outside. That way we can still enjoy our night, right baby girl?”  He tilts her chin up to him, kissing her lips slowly. Tavia’s knees practically give out. “Mhm, yeah, that’s fine.  Go on, girl. Text me when you get home or when T’Challa gets you.”

You nod, walking on, not caring if Erik was still behind you or not.  But once you made it out the door, he came right up beside you.

“What the hell kinda name is T’Challa, huh?”  Erik asks you with venom in his voice.

You squint your eyes at him.  “It’s his name. Better than a basic ass one like yours.”

Erik raises his eyebrows.  “Oh really? I’m basic? Only a basic nigga would have his girl dressed like that, out here in the streets without him by her side.”  He turns directly in front of you. “The streets ain’t safe enough for a pretty thing like you.”

You back up, looking around for people walking along the street.  “What are you doing, get back!”

Erik snatches your wrist up, looking at your kimoyo beads.  “These is nice. Your T’Challa get them for you?”

“That’s none of your damn business-”

Erik pulls you into him forcibly.  “When I ask you a question, you answer me.”  He says with growl. 

Your heart pounds in your chest, tears blurring your vision as you feel yourself becoming nauseous again.  Erik lets you go before you throw up on the sidewalk.

“Hey!  Is she alright?”  a bystander asks.

“She good!  Just overdoing it as usual, ya know?”  Erik yells back. 

As you are leaned over you push a kimoyo bead for T’Challa, but Erik’s hand grips your arm to stand you upright.

“That’s somethin valuable you got there….”  Erik grunts in your ear as he walks you down the block.  

Tears roll down your face, “Please, you can have it!  Just let me go!”

Erik laughs sinisterly, “Nah, it ain’t even like that.  You T’Challa’s girl right? Must be close to get his beads.  He owes me somethin, so you just gonna be a little bargaining chip for me.”

A car pulls up a the end of the block with the elderly Malibu’s Most Wanted character sneering at you both.

“Get in!  We ain’t got all day!”  he barks.

Before he opens the door a thump sounds on the front hood of the car.  The driver tries to turn the engine over without luck.

“Klaue, what the fuck you doin, man?”  Erik asks.

He bangs the steering wheel.  “We got company.”

Erik’s head is pushed into the doorframe of the vehicle, causing him to lose his grip on you as you stumble backward in horror.

Someone in an all black one-piece makes their way around to the drivers side.  The man reaches through the window, dragging him out. 

“Mercy, King, Mercy!!”  Klaue shouts. 

Erik has a gun trained on the man, firing off shot after shot.  Dropping Klaue, he walks toward him like the bullets were nothing.  

You run down the street as fast as you can to get away from the mayhem.  Rounding a corner, you hear a beep from your wrist. Holding it out, you see Shuri.  

“(Y/N)!  I’m coming to get you up the street, be there!”  she commands.

You look ahead of you to see car pull up idling.  You were confused to see no driver.

“Shuri, are you-”

“The car without a driver, yes, get in!”

You hop in the backseat as it jets off.  You speak to your kimoyo trying to calm down.  “Shuri, have you heard from T’Challa? He is supposed to meet me at the club and I don’t want him caught up in that shooting!”

Shuri sighs, “He will join us in a minute.  I am taking you back to his place to make sure you are safe.”

You take your phone out to call Tavia, praying to God she gets out ok.  You get her voicemail.

“Tavia, that guy you talked to must be a gang member or criminal.  He tried to kidnap me and some guy came through to fight him, looking like a BDSM dream dom!  I had to get outta there, let me know when you get this!” You hang up, your eyes welling with tears at the thought of your friend not getting out alive.

“(Y/N), you have to calm down.  The authorities will handle it!”

Your hyperventilating was causing you to feel light headed, so you made a conscious effort to steady yourself.  But you still couldn’t get Tavia out of your mind, you clutch your phone willing it to ring. And where the hell was T’Challa?

The car finally pulls up to his place.  You run up the stairs, opening the door.

“T’Challa!  Are you here?”  You yell out. No one answers, but you head towards the stairs to check his bedroom. 

Halfway up you hear Shuri behind you.  “He is not here yet, but he is on the way.”

You turn to her, running back down the stairs and up to her for a hug.  Your emotions spill out on her little body as she comforts you as best as a 16 year old can muster.

“(Y/N), everything will be fine.  Please, let me look you over, were you hurt?”

You shake your head, sniffling.  “No. I just can’t believe the shitty night I’ve had.”

Shuri sits you on the couch and accesses a program on her kimoyo beads.  “This is like what I scanned you with at the park when you sprained your ankle.  I’m just going to travel this over you to make sure nothing is overlooked due to adrenaline.”

You hold still as she runs the light over you starting from your head, to your feet, and back again once more.

Shuri pulls her hand away as come calculations run off for her to read.  Her face tweaks a little as she reads.

Your heart skips at her reaction.  “What? What is it? I don’t think he roughed me up too bad where I wouldn’t notice-”

Shuri shakes her head looking closer at her notes, “No, no.  That’s not it, nothing is broken, just….”

You were becoming impatient, “Just tell me, Shuri, what-”

The front door busts open and you see T’Challa panting and sweating.

“(Y/N)!  How are you, is everything alright?”  He rushes over to you, kneeling at your lap to look you over.

You are frozen in your seat.  You can’t believe what you are seeing.  T’Challa is wearing the very suit the man in black had on fighting Erik.  You open your mouth to speak, but you can’t get the words out.

T’Challa looks to be near tears, “Shuri, is something wrong with her, she does not seem well!”  

“She is just in shock; seeing a lot of things that apparently she knew nothing about, Brother.  Come this way please.”

T’Challa looks at you once more.  “I am so sorry. I’ll be right back.”

As they talk, you begin to fume.  T’Challa was supposed to have told you everything.  He said he trusted you and yet here he is in some bulletproof unitard, kicking ass around downtown.  What kind of person was he? 

You couldn’t catch everything they were saying as they spoke to each other in Xhosa, but T’Challa went still when Shuri said, “...ukhulelwe.”

You get up, unable to take being shut out.  “T’Challa…”

He turns to you, “You must sit down, you have seen a lot-”

“I ain’t sittin nowhere, T’Challa!  Why are you in this suit? What were you doing downtown?”

T’Challa takes a deep breath, “You called me after all, right?”

Frustration was at its tipping point within you.  “Urrghh!! Stop fucking tap dancing around the subject!  Be straight with me! Those men knew you, they were going to use me to lure you to them.  Why are they after you? Why didn’t you tell me this?” You voice began to break as you were overcome: exhausted, stressed, scared.  “Did you see Tavia?”

T’Challa reaches out for you but you swipe him away.  “Where is Tavia, I said!!” you yell at him.

Shuri tries to step in, “Please, you can’t get this upset, you’ll only hurt yourself more.  T’Challa did you see her?” Shuri gets you to sit, more so because you were so very tired of screaming.

T’Challa crossed his arms looking at the ground.  “Erik, got her.”

You felt as though you could pass out any moment.

T’Challa looks at you sorrowfully, “I tried to stop him but Klaue blasted me back, knocking the wind out of me.  I am sure she is his bargaining chip now.”

Shuri gets up, “We have to go then.  We are not safe here for the time being.”

“What?  Where are we going?”  you ask.

T’Challa kneels in front of you again.  “We must go to Wakanda. It is safer there and we can plan to get your friend-”

“I’m not leaving without Tavia, hell no.  She could die before you all figure it out.”  

T’Challa bows his head, trying to be patient.  “It’s not a matter of negotiation. If you stay here he will come for you.”

“THEN LET HIM COME!  I cannot leave here without knowing my friend is safe.”  You pick up your phone and dial her. It rang and rang and rang…

T’Challa looks at you, his eyes wide and glossy, biting his lip to keep his emotions in check.  You look at him with almost hatred. You couldn’t stand his lies, withholding the truth, and now his life was directly affecting yours.  With all that anger, you still cried for Tavia, for him and whatever he must have done to create such havoc, for the love story you hoped could work out but is now rapidly disintegrating.

T’Challa removes the phone from your ear, caressing your hand.  “We must go. I couldn’t bear losing you and our-” he cuts himself off.

“Our what?”  you ask, only half listening.  You were still thinking of Tavia.

Shuri cuts in, “The kimoyo beads aren’t as accurate as my tests at the lab, it could still be off.”

“What are you talking about Shuri?”  You ask, hoping she would be more straight with you.

Shuri fidgets with her braids, “It’s really not my place at all…”  She pops T’Challa on the head, forcing him to come clean.

 


	7. Chapter 7

T’Challa’s mouth hangs open as he tried to find the words to tell you what has been held back from you this whole time.

“(Y/N), I have to let you know that as King of Wakanda, I have more abilities than you know.  To have the throne, you have to have abilities bestowed upon you in order to protect it. That is given to me through the Heart Shaped Herb-”

“So did you pass some ability to me?”  You ask, interrupting him.

T’Challa looks at you curiously.  “What do you mean?”

You sigh heavily, trying to get to the point.  “I mean, when we…” you glance from T’Challa to Shuri before whispering, “...you know... did it change me?  Am I changing on a molecular level? Is that what Shuri saw in her wrist beads thingy?” you ask, growing more stressed by the second.  “I had seen enough movies to assume that sometimes powers can be transmitted through contact with someone so maybe…”

T’Challa shakes his head, scoffing at your theory, “Ohhh, no, no.  That’s not possible, we just think you are pregnant.” he says a little too matter-of-factly.

Your eyes widen as your mind goes blank with that word hitting your thought process. You then look down at your stomach, as if it would just start spontaneously growing.  You world moves slow as you look back at him, the man of your heart, who was supposed to protect you and have your trust. T’Challa studies your face trying to read what’s wrong with you.  His mouth is moving but you don’t hear his words. Shuri is back behind him a bit, looking like he is trying to diffuse a bomb.

Suddenly, you erupt.  “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN I’M PREGNANT??!!”  You shout at the top of your lungs.

T’Challa jumps back, never having heard your voice at that level of anger spooked him.  “Umhle, please c-”

“I LOST MY VIRGINITY TO YOU AND NOW I AM PREGNANT?!  We JUST had sex! We used condoms, what did you do??”  you shout in T’Challa’s face. 

Shuri has backed into the kitchen to give some level of privacy to the situation, while ensuring she doesn’t catch any second hand of the heat you were spreading.

T’Challa continues to try and talk you down sweetly.  “Love, I did, I know it, maybe one broke, but-”

“Did you use the regular ones, or the ones manufactured from home?”  Shuri asks from the kitchen. 

You and T’Challa look at her curiously.  The child was going to preach the birds and the bees to you.

She shrugs.  “Mother gave me the talk long ago, I am nearly grown!  But the ones here do not work like the ones from home. With your enhanced abilities, semen-”

“Aye, aye, I don’t want to hear those words from you, Shuri.”  T’Challa says, shaking his head in disgust, plugging his ears.

Shuri looks at him with contempt.  “Grow up, T’Challa. This mess is yours to straighten out, I’m just telling you facts.  If you had been honest completely from the beginning...”

You rub your temples trying to think, “Shuri, so his...you know….just, what?  Broke the condom? Or seeped through or something?”

Shuri nods, “Something like that.  I remember Baba talking about a situation similar during a party.  It is how I got here…. and why I am the superior child.” Shuri adds in jest.

“Enough!  I was never told any of this, I feel like if anyone should know, it would be me.”  T’Challa says.

Shuri holds her palms up.  “Well it’s not like there are multiple people with the heart shaped herb in their genetic code.  It was really just a rumor going around at first, but it may be fact proven today.”

You are pacing the floor, hyperventilating and trying not to go faint.  You sleep with T’Challa, who doesn’t tell you he is super human, or that his seed is, and that condoms don’t mean jack shit to him busting inside of you.  Perfect.

“(Y/N), did you not have birth control?”  T’Challa asks cautiously, not wanting to sound like he is placing blame.

You hide your face, frustrated at yourself now.  “Nooo, I hadn’t had to think about it before now cuz there was no point, so I just had an appointment made to get some afterwards, but I guess I’ll cancel that!”  You say, laughing like a person who lost their last brain cell.

T’Challa takes your hands, shushing you gently.  “Breathe, it’s fine, it’s going to be ok. We will get through this.”

You look at him, heat rising from within you.  “What more can I get through?! Get through this past week and everything having happened in the last 3 hours??  How can I get through this, I still don’t know what’s going on!”

“Umhle-”

“No, T’Challa, no!  I have little patience right now for the sweet talk and-and calming tones, I need answers, not distractions!  You said you loved me, I can’t believe this.” Your tears overflow as you begin to pace again.

T’Challa looks to you defiantly.  He cannot hide his offense when you tell him off.  “That was not a lie. I have never lied to you.”

You turn towards him so quickly and stalk up to him so fast, Shuri hops up to come over between you two.

“Lies by omission are still lies, T’Challa!  You have been playing me for a fool, for what?!  To protect your precious kingdom from the gold digging, ignorant American girl that you just needed pop off in real quick?”

T’Challa looks away like you just spat in his face.  “Don’t speak like that.”

You shove him, what little that does.  “That shouldn't phase you, huh, Superman!  You don’t tell me what the hell to do! I’m pregnant!  With a baby that I don’t know if I even want! My friend is God knows where, going through God knows what with a madman wanting to kill you, me, or whoever he feels up to seeing bleed.  That’s what I’m going through, right the fuck now! What about you?” You point in his face, jaws clenched. “What the hell would your father think of what you’re putting me through?”

Shuri comes back and breaks things up at this point.  “Ok, guys. Take a breath. We can’t fall apart before the mission even begins here.  You shouldn’t say things that you may regret (Y/N), sit, please. T’Challa, hold your patience”

You sit down, trying to comprehend what you have to do.  Between your friend going missing and being a fresh 36 seconds pregnant, you were at the end of your rope.  And now T’Challa is just making things seem like a spilled milk situation made you resent him for not being as freaked out as you were.

T’Challa rubs his beard in thought, kissing his teeth.  “Do you...want to end the pregnancy?”

You stare at the floor fighting back the flood developing at the corners of your eyes.  “I don’t know.”

T’Challa scoffs, stretching his arms out before slapping them down beside his legs.  “I will support you…..whatever you decide….” He doesn’t say it convincingly, before he starts to walk away.

“Do you want me to continue the pregnancy?”  You ask back at him, looking to him quizzically.

T’Challa remains still a moment.  “I don’t know how to answer that.”

“What does that mean?”

T’Challa’s shoulders rise and fall in exasperation.  “It means, I do not want to influence your decision. I am here for you, either way.  I think this will affect our relationship either way, in what manner, only time can tell.”   T’Challa says.

Shuri speaks up as referee.  “Guys, it is probably best to get some rest for now.  I will contact Ayo, see if she can get a location on Erik and his crew so we can get Tavia back, ok?”

You nod absentmindedly as you lie back on the couch.

“No, you can have my bed upstairs, I’ll take the couch.”  T’Challa says.

You shake your head.  “I don’t want to be in there right now.” 

“Then take a guest bedroom.  But you will not be sleeping on the couch.”  T’Challa protests softly.    
You get up slowly, heading for the stairs.  “You do not have to treat me special because I am with child, you know.”

“I would not treat you any other way, in any circumstance.”  T’Challa says in a serious tone. You decide not to test his patience any further as you head to a separate bedroom.  You lie down, turning over to observe the sky outside of your window. You didn’t know how to feel, your head was pounding, you needed water from the alcohol at the club drying you out.  You avoided acknowledging whatever was happening within your body, as Shuri said, the scan could be flawed. But either way, a Plan B is no longer a viable option for precaution. Only an abortion from here on out.  Your stomach churned violently at the mention, so you get up to go get that water you desperately needed. 

Making it to the fridge to get a water bottle, you start up the stairs again, but pause halfway up as you notice voices from outside.  Shuri and T’Challa were talking in the back patio area. You settle down on the stairs, clutching your bottle as you hesitantly listen in.

“What would the repercussions be to bring a child out of wedlock as a successor to the throne?”  Shuri asked.

“I do not know what the traditions are, but I can assure you, that I will not give up on my own flesh and blood for the throne.  You can take it, you know.” T’Challa says.

“No, no.  Not in this lifetime, I like having you as my guinea pig for my updates to the tech.  Why would I willfully sign up in your place? Anyway, you have the birthright, do what you have to do.  But then…..what if she decides to terminate?”

T’Challa pauses, hugging himself as he looks on into the distance.  “Then she terminates. Simple as that.”

Shuri touches his arm with concern.  “But how would you feel, Brother?”

T’Challa looks down shaking his head.  “It would depend on when she did it, maybe?  The sooner, the better, but even that sounds wrong of me to say.   Even though she is hesitant too, I don’t want to seem disappointed in her for keeping it or for…..I just...I love her.  I care for her deeply, and the image of her being with child…” He holds a hand to his chest. “...warms my spirit, I admit.  Of course, I wish this had happened later than sooner. It is still early in the relationship. I would’ve introduced her to Mother, married her, but these are the cards Bast has dealt.”

“You should've been more forthcoming, Brother.  Now she thinks the worst of you.”

T’Challa purses his lips.  “I know. It's difficult to gauge what to say, and when to say it.  I did have my position in mind, but it wasn't fair to her not to know.  Now she must feel she is having a baby by a stranger, so I have to make it right.  First by getting her friend from Erik and Klaue safely.”

“I am too young to be an aunt.”  Shuri say, making T’Challa laugh.

“Well you would have someone to boss around for once.  But do not speak of this with her. I will remain indifferent until her mind is made.  I will not have anything to do with the decision making, it is all on her. I just want to support her through it.”

On that note, you head back to your room for the evening to rest.  T’Challa’s words weighed heavily on you. In no means do you want to hurt him intentionally with blame or saying you didn’t want the pregnancy, you just wished so much you guys were more careful.  In some way, you wish T’Challa would react to make your mind up. If he would break up with you immediately, you couldn't have the baby. But support and affection all just make you feel like nesting but like he said, what did you even know about him anymore?  Now other lives are in jeopardy due to his silence.

You swear you feel a flutter in your stomach but you pass it off as gas, still wanting to pretend your body is still yours alone in this bed.

In the morning when you wake up, you still feel tired from the other night but decide to get up and be productive.  Reaching for your phone, you see you have a missed call and voicemail.

“Chacha!!”  You call out, running downstairs.

T’Challa nearly collides with you halfway up the stairs.  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“She called, T’Challa, there’s a message!”  Your voice breaks as you speak. Tavia is alive!

T’Challa’s eyes are wide with surprise, but maintains a cool head.  “Ok, we need to hear it. She may have escaped and needs us.”

You nod as he leads you down the stairs.  Shuri comes from a back room after hearing the commotion.  “You have heard from her friend?” 

“Yes, we just got word from her.  Sit with us while we play it, we may need you to place her location.”  T’Challa tells his sister.

You all congregate around his coffee table, your hands shake as you imagine what the message might sound like.  T’Challa rubs your arm to put you at ease as you pull up your voicemail and put it on speaker.

As the message plays you hear Tavia breathing hard and frantic.  “(Y/N).....where did you go?......I don’t know where I am…..Please!  You gotta help me!”

The phone gets a bunch of background noise and movement is overheard before you hear the next voice.  “Don’t worry, I gotcha. Heeyy, baby girl!”

Your blood ran cold as you recognized his voice.  That voice threatened to take you away on a cat and mouse game with T’Challa.

“Last I checked, your friend here was feeling me.  Shit, I don’t know what her deal is now…”

“Don’t fuckin touch me!”  Tavia says. “OW!”

Erik kisses his teeth.  “Issa shame how pretty she is.  All that could change in a instant.  So you go head and tell T’Challa to bring your big ass back here if you wanna see your friend again.  We still gotta finish our drinks.” 

The message ends and you drop your head in agony, sobbing into your lap. Tavia was alive alright, in a living hell.

T’Challa kneels in front of your feet to comfort you.  “(Y/N), she is still alive, that is the best news we can have right now, remember that.  We can find her now, Shuri, can you trace the call?”

Shuri runs a geolocation program on her kimoyo beads.  “Way ahead of you. He stayed on the phone long enough for me to get one…..Looks like a warehouse on 53rd and Ashland.”

“I will go there now.  Keep (Y/N) company while I handle this”  T’Challa orders.

“But he said he wants (Y/N) there!  You can’t risk going against his instructions, you don’t know what he may do.”  Shuri says.

T’Challa turns to her fuming.  “I will not risk (Y/N)’s life for his games!  He gets myself and whatever I have coming for him!  That is all he needs to worry about!”

You go up to T’Challa, wiping your eyes, putting a hand to his chest.  His heart felt like a speaker on blast in his chest. “Don’t yell at your sister, Chacha, calm down.”

T’Challa closes his eyes tightly.  “You don’t know what this means to me to find him.  The fact that he got away from me, to get your friend in the first place shows my weaknesses and I must redeem myself.  It is unacceptable what has happened on my watch so far.”

You caress T’Challa’s face, admiring the wide innocence in his eyes to be the good man and great King he pushes himself to be.  The anger and insecurities etched deeply across his face, brow furrowed in intense inner monologues no doubt. You bring your thumb up to his widow’s peak, brushing it upwards.  “Chacha, this is not about just you anymore. This more than just bragging rights, this is my friend’s life, my life, yours. Going in blind with emotion will only make it more probable to fail.  You gotta use your head, not your heart, to direct your strategy now.”

T’Challa eyes tell you so much more than he says.  They tell you you’re naive, that he is still very much so angry, that he loves you too much to fight against your words.  But as long as there was still respect for you, he would bend. “You need to get dressed, but you will not leave my side.”  He says with a wag of his finger. 

You swipe his hand away, pulling him in for a kiss.  You hated to think so, but it felt more like a goodbye.

T’Challa drives you both down to the warehouse in question to get Tavia from her captor.  The drive over there is quiet as you were tensely biting your nails, not sure what to do with yourself.

T’Challa looks over at you taking your hand away from your mouth, kissing it.  “Everything will be fine. As long as Tavia is out of there safely, all will be well.”

You hold tight to his knuckly, long hands; strong and determined against your shaky, uncertain ones.  “And you. You need to come back too.” You add.

T’Challa looks at you like he didn’t even think of that as an option, but quickly smiles.  “Naturally. That is a given.” 

T’Challa stops the car a few yards back from the building.  “Remember, stay by me and be on the lookout for anything. Let me know when something isn’t sitting right.”

As you all get out of the car, you look at the old and rusted abandoned looking building curiously.  No other businesses or main roads around, it was perfect to keep someone for an extended period of time.

T’Challa walks around the building entrance, pushing a button that should open a garage door but is out of order.  You continue to double check your surroundings before he gets to a window and breaks it in with a nearby rock.

“Shit!  T’Challa be a little more quiet, eh?  How do you know no one is in there?” You say with a scolding  whisper.

T’Challa reaches through the window to the side of a door, working the lock to open it up.  “Shuri has the place surveilled. She will let us know if we have company.” 

T’Challa steps inside slowly, looking right and left as you follow behind.  

“TAVIA, YOU IN HERE?!”  You shout out out of the blue.  T’Challa looks back at you like you’re crazy.  “What? You said Shuri said nobody here.”

“Girl is that you??” a voice calls out. 

You look around excitedly, “TAVIA!!  Where are you!?”

Tavia steps out from stack of boxes smiling and looking well.  “Oh my God! Am I glad to see you bitch!”

Your legs lead you before your head can register your happiness.  You run over to your friend, arms outstretched as Tavia meets you halfway.

You both lock each other in an embrace as you both shriek in happiness, bouncing out your energy.

“Ladies, we will need to go soon.”  T’Challa insists.

You barely register his voice as you try to check in with Tavia.  “What happened to you? After I left the club, I can’t believe you got taken.”

Tavia pulls back from you, fanning your face.  “Man, once you left, I wondered why the hell I was waiting so damn long by myself and went to check on you.  But when I did, the dickhead Erik from the bar and Catwoman’s husband were out scrappin on the street!”

You shake your head,exhaling deeply.  “Girl, that was T’Challa!”

Tavia bucks her eyes out,  “Oh really?? Fighting like that?! Was that suit a part of the uhh, night y’all…”

Your jaw drops, pushing her arm.  “Tavia, shut the hell up! I’m still just, ugh, girl, so much to tell you, come on.”

You take her hand to go, but she won’t move.  “Tavia, what’s up? Let’s go, we can’t stay here all day, like you’d want to.”

Tavia looks at you with a defeated gaze.  “I’m sorry.”

You stutter in confusion, “Wha-what do you mean-”

“(Y/N)!”  T’Challa bellows.  As you turn around, you see T’Challa’s body become covered in little nano-looking parts, expanding all over him until he is enclosed in his signature catsuit, showing every curve and and cavern imaginable.  

“Whoa!”  You squeak in awe of his transformation.

Just then an explosion goes off at the front of the warehouse, sends you and Tavia staggering back.  A cloud of smoke covers everything as you try to make out where T’Challa went.

“T’Challa!!  T’Challa, are you alright?”

A figure emerges from the dust cloud decked out in armor and a foreign looking mask.  But it was not T’Challa.

“Wassup, baby girl?  You miss me?”

You cough as your lungs become upset from the blast.  “Who-”

“You don’t remember me darling?  That’s ok, me ya friend gonna keep good company with you.”  He says.

With a large pow, Erik gets brought down to his knees with a punch to the back of the head, T’Challa stands behind him in full garb.  

“Get out of here now!”  T’Challa commands as Erik strikes him in the shin to bring him down to his level as they fight on the floor.

You get up, covering your face to make your way through the smoke.  Tavia follows closely behind you. As you both make it out into the fresh air, a van with the door open awaits you.  Coming around from the side of the vehicle, stands the surly looking white man that was Erik’s partner.

“Hello lovelies.  Fine afternoon, innit?”  His gravelly voice taunts you as he sneers.

You reach for Tavia to come with you desperately.  “Girl, we gotta run! He and Erik were after me that night!”

Tavia looks at you with a hardened stare.  “I know I was there.”

You pause a moment, giving her a once over.  “Tavia...why are you so calm?”

Tavia laughs hysterically.  “Oh, sis, ain’t nobody gonna die.  This is dramatic though, right? Well hell, I guess I done flew over the cuckoo’s nest now.  But honey, you ain’t gotta worry, we got you.”

You look from her back to Klaue, who raises a gun up in your direction.  “Just take some slow steps up to the van and we will handle the rest.”

Tavia waves Klaue off.  “Nah, I told y’all not to be like that, I got it!”

Your eyes pierce daggers into Tavia.  “Tavia! You with them now? The fuck is wrong with you??”

Tavia pulls a gun from behind her back, holding it by her side.  “Get in the van and I can tell you about it. I won’t point this at you, but I want this to go as smooth as possible, without hurting you or anybody else, aight?”

Erik’s body flies out from the warehouse, landing hard on the concrete.  Tavia takes you by the arm to shuffle you into the van with Klaue. She shuts the door behind you all as Klaue starts up the engine.  

Looking out of the back window as the van pulls off, you see T’Challa has Erik by the throat before tossing him away to start after the van, but falls back after short while.

You turn back to Tavia, fuming.  “What are you doing with them, Tavia?”

Tavia picks at her nails.  “Oh, stop. Ain’t nobody gonna hurt you, I said.  This isn’t what this is all about. You’re just a little piece to the whole puzzle, is all.”

“So then why are you doing this?”You ask puzzled.

Tavia turns to you like this is a candid girl chat all of a sudden.  “Well, I never got around to telling you, but I met Erik a couple weeks ago from swiping on the apps, right?  And I mean, he is really smart, and fine like come on! And you know, he knows the world, and he’s been through a lot, and I really just support his cause.”

“His cause?  But what does he want with T’Challa?”

“Oh him?  That’s just family mess.  But I did not know that the leather bound kitty was your man!  Girl, you been holding out details on me, for what?!” Tavia exclaims.

You blink your eyes in frustration.  “Tavia! How are you talking to me like this is just some everyday shit?  Did he fuck up your head when he got you?”

Tavia chuckles to herself.  “Listen I am fine. I’m seeing the world in a new light, is all.  Why are our people settling for handouts from the White man, when we can build our own shit, make our own laws!  People think we are progressing because there aren’t ‘colored only’ signs, but trust me, they are still there in the way they police us.  That’s what Erik wants to change, but he needs support from family that ain’t tried to find him. Now, Erik getting ahold of you, was no part of mine, but he said he needed to get T’Challa’s attention, so that was the way!  He promised me he wouldn’t pull no dumb shit or I’d be out, quick!”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.  Nothing that Tavia was saying made any sense to correlate with what you were witnessing.  

“But Erik wants T’Challa’s neck!  He ain’t here to talk, you see they been fighting non-stop!”  you explain.

“That’s just some surface level, family shit!  Once that’s out their system, they’ll have time to talk.  T’Challa just mad someone can come for his throne now.”

“What do you mean family shit?  And he is already king, that’s a done deal...right?”  you ask.

“Oh no baby, that can be challenged, ‘specially since they first cousins!  T’Challa and the Wakandans never gave him a thought, they need to let him in.  T’Challa didn’t tell you?”

You rub your forehead aggravated.  “He hasn’t told me a lot of things apparently.  I got some much shit with him, that’s what I was going to tell you about but...I can’t trust you, girl.”

Tavia looked at you offended.  “Come on, ain’t nobody-”

The loud crash of metal on metal shakes you both up as you hold onto your seats to keep from getting ejected.  Over and over again the van is rammed from behind, you try and keep yourself grounded to see what the cause is.

“Girl, is that car driving on its own??”  Tavia squawks. 

You blink repeatedly, but your eyes are not deceiving you as you see the driver’s side is empty.  It was T’Challa’s car, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Klaue growls with anger.  “Dammit! The Wakandans are here!  You have your gun girl!?”

Tavia shakes her head, looking ready to cry.  “No man! I ain’t shootin shit! I told y’all that!”

You feel heat coming from your Kimoyo beads as a light beams from it.  You hold your palm out as Shuri comes into focus.

“Hey!  Are you alright in there?”  She asks you.

You nod.  “Uh huh.  But T’Challa’s car is coming after us, but he isn’t in it.  No one is!”

Tavia looks around Shuri’s image cautiously.  “Girl, did iOS get and update? We got hologram handhelds now?”

Shuri smirks apologetically to you.  “Yeah, that is my fault. I had T’Challa put an remote control device on the engine so that I can tap in and drive if needed.  It never takes long for my services to come in handy. Just hold tight, we are getting you out of there now.”

“Who’s we-”

A large thud hits the top of the van as a spear shoots through the ceiling between you and Tavia.  You both collectively scream as the foreign object retracts back. 

Klaue exclaims in fear.  “Shit! Now we’re really in it.  Girl if you don’t get a weapon aimed now, they’ll have you head!”

Tavia is still screaming.  “The fuck! I ain’t shootin nobody!  How you know that ain’t Erik?”

A loud whistle screams through the air as a gleam of light flashes in front of the windshield.  Sticking in the ground with a thwack, Klaue has no time to steer out of the way before the van goes airborne, flipping in the air, landing on its top.

You both took a tumble inside the van, you rub your head and neck from the whiplash.  “Gatdamn, Tavia, are you aight?” you ask, trying to move your body from the twist it was in.

Tavia coughs.  “Yeah, just got the wind knocked out my ass.”  

“Good, cuz I’m going to kick yours once we oughta this, bitch, taking me through all this bullshit.”  you say through your teeth.

Tavia rolls over, sitting slightly upright.  “The day you kick my ass is the day the Kardashians swear offa Black men.”

“Fuck you.”  You quip.

“(Y/N)?”  a voice calls out from the side of the vehicle.

You turn slowly to look and see a bald woman, in beautifully adorned red and gold armor and garment, enough to make Grace Jones tumble into a puddle.

“Hello, my apologies for the rough stop.  I hope I have not hurt you.” 

“No, you haven’t, thanks.  Are you someone with T’Challa?”

She nods.  “The King is not with me right now, but I am part of his guard.  My name is Ayo.”

She smile weakly, thankful for some assistance on the right side of things.  “Your voice told me all I needed to know.”

Klaue writhes in the driver’s seat; looks as though he got a good hit in the front of his face, bloodied.

“We must hurry (Y/N), there is no time to stick around here.”  Ayo says holding out a hand to help you out.

As you come to standing you ask, “What about Tavia?”

Ayo looks to the car.  “That is her in there?”

You nod as Ayo peers down through the window again.  “Come on out then. Are you seriously injured?”

Tavia crawls out, trying to avoid broken glass.  “No, I’m good.”

“Fine.  Then I also have orders to take you back to Wakanda with us, as well.”  Ayo says.

“What?  Why are we still going to Wakanda, you stopped them, haven’t you?”  You question, stress building up again.

Ayo looks to you.  “We still do not have a confirmation from the King on the combatant.  We hope to hear back soon, but for now my focus is to get you both out of here.”

“Well, why the hell am I going?  I don’t know a damn thing about that country, no passport on me, nothing.”  Tavia says.

“You will need none of that.  We cannot risk the life of (Y/N), or their child for your part in the combatant’s plan.  You will be segregated from the population until we figure out what to do with you.”

“There is no child!”  You say swiftly. You still denied any kind of pregnancy until you could get to a doctor. 

Tavia’s mouth moves in many ways until words fell out.  “Wait, what? I never said I was fucking with people’s kids, man!  I don’t know anything about a baby!” Tavia says.

Ayo looks confused.  “I’m sorry, I must’ve spoken out of turn…”

You sigh.  “No, I just want to make sure of things first.  And at this stage, it’s not a child anyway-”

“(Y/N), you pregnant?”  Tavia says, looking at you flabbergasted.

You roll your eyes.  “Not completely proven true yet!  Shuri just checked my vitals and found something to be off with hormones or whatever.  I haven’t even pee’d on the stick yet!”

Tavia smirks.  “This nigga busted his trojan horse all up in your barricades, huh?  Girl you ARE a FREAK!”

You fought back the urge to laugh.  Even when she was being insane in her logic, she still had that charm that kept you rolling.  “Tavia! It wasn’t like that!”

Ayo calls something in Xhosa on her kimoyo beads, and soon after an aircraft appears in the distance like an apparition.

Tavia and you are still going back and forth about you getting knocked up when Ayo reminds Tavia that she is not to try and flee or fight, or she will face consequences.

“If you don’t want me out, why don’t you cuff me, sis?”  Tavia asks, suddenly tough again.

Ayo turns to her slowly, gaze unshifting.  “You did see what I did to the van, yes? Imagine what else I can do.  The Dora do not require handcuffs.”

Tavia just nods, satisfied with the answer.  “What about Klaue? You gonna take him?” you ask.

Ayo looks at the wreckage like it was a paper jam.  “Eh, let him bleed out.”

As the aircraft opens for them to board, you get on with all the anxiety in the world.  You felt woozy from the excitement, probably brought on by pregnancy sickness as well, and you still hoped that was all in your head too.  Nothing was ever normal anymore; from men to sex to getting from one place to the other. You prayed T’Challa would get back soon, safely; you didn’t know what the hell to do in a country you’ve never seen, with people unknown.  Not even Tavia was a saving grace for you, since she became a part of this mess, how much more could you take. 


	8. Chapter 8

The aircraft was quiet inside as it glided through the air.  You and Tavia sat on opposite sides of it avoiding each other’s eyes.  You were more worried about where Ayo was taking you all. She sat at the helm, cross legged with her hands sitting up and out at her sides.  She looked like a goddess in her red and gold uniform, head glinting beautifully.

You go over to her to attempt some communication.  “Excuse me, can you tell me how long it will be before we are in…”

“Wakanda?  Yes, it looks to be about 15 minutes now.”  Ayo says calmly.

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.  “Really? We’ve only been flying for what, an hour?  How does a flight from the States to Africa take only that long?”

Ayo lets loose a teeny tiny, itty bitty smile.  Blink and you may had missed it. “Wakandan modes of transportation are not like any you have ever seen.  With vibranium, high speeds can be achieved with the designs we create. There was a little bit of weather over the Atlantic so I have had to slow things down a bit.”

You mouth a ‘wow’.  “It’s all good, I was just wondering how long it would be.  Thank you….for everything.” You say this, thinking back on the spear stopping you from being abducted.

“It is nothing more than I would’ve done outside of orders.  Please, sit down and rest. I’ll let you know once we have arrived.”

You go back to your seat staring at Tavia in her handcuffs.  Tavia doesn’t even look at you before rolling her eyes. “What girl?”

You purse your mouth.  “I’m still just trying to wrap my head around what the hell has gotten into you, friend.”

Tavia turns to you, looking defiant.  “It’s not that hard to figure out. Listen, I wasn’t gonna hurt you, that wasn’t my plan.  But Erik wants to stop T’Challa for a lot of good reasons!”

“So you believe he is bad?  Like I wouldn’t have figured that out seeing as I’m in a whole ass relationship with him?”

Tavia scoffs.  “Didn’t you just figure out he some kind of superhero two hours ago?  That high horse you sittin on is cuttin off the oxygen to your brain, sis.”

“Be that as it may...he hasn’t given me any reason to believe he is bad.  He is gentle, and kind, and compassionate-”

“When he is with you?  Sure. He sold me on breakfast and neither of us had even slept with him by then.  But now? Pssh, look, T’Challa may not have started shit but he’s benefitting and he’s gonna have to prove his worth like Erik plans to.”

“What is he trying-”

“We are here, (Y/N).”  Ayo announces. 

The aircraft slowly hovers and descends onto the grounds below.  You try looking out the window at some people below but hit a blind spot.  Once it landed, Ayo stepped down from her perch to make her way over to you, spear in hand.  

“You will be greeted by security and members of the royal family and staff, as it is mandatory for outsiders being let in.  It is best to keep your conversation and interaction minimal and follow the lead of that who is speaking to you for proper etiquette to mirror.”

You nod your head, standing up to smooth your clothes.  Ayo then walks to Tavia telling her to rise and walk towards the opening doors of the aircraft.  The door folds out to be a ramp as Tavia takes a step out, shielding her eyes a moment as the sun hits her face.  Ayo trails her and you follow closely behind.

Standing before you is a woman looking stoic in a cream colored outfit with matching headdress.  Flanking her was a few women who appeared to be of Ayo’s team, same uniform and all. They greet each other in a language you don’t understand, saluting with a cross-armed greeting.  One woman takes Tavia and walks her off towards a building behind them. Tavia looks back at you fearfully, but there wasn’t much you could do at the moment. 

Ayo comes up to the stoic woman.  “Queen Mother, good day.”

The woman known as Queen Mother nods to Ayo.  “Do you have an update on Shuri and T’Challa? I have not been able to get ahold of them on their kimoyo beads.” she asks in a serious tone of voice.

Ayo answers her in a language you don’t follow.  As they speak, Queen Mother looks concerned but collected as Ayo rattles off.  One bald headed woman next to Queen Mother speaks up and runs back to the ship swiftly as Ayo trails behind her.  

The aircraft takes off as Queen Mother turns to you, her expression softening.  “Hello. How are you feeling?”

As if her question was an activation switch, you touch a spot on your forehead that was sore and hot to touch.  The woman clicked her tongue in pity. “Oh dear, Xoliswa! If you may, please lead Miss (Y/N) to the medi-lab for evaluation.”  She smiles warmly at you as another bald-headed warrior woman reaches you to take you to your destination. 

The glass walls and floors of the lab give you vertigo as you walk; heights were never your thing as you could see what appeared to be a lightrail system passing under you.  Feeling nauseous, you trip a little; Xoliswa catches you effortlessly.

“Are you alright?”  she questions. The room feels as though its closing in as your vision becomes obstructed, you can’t even think about her question, let alone answer it.  Yelling out for help, a couple of people rush from inside the lab to you in the hallway to help you get seen.

Your eyes flutter open Lord knows how long after you got there.  Looking up at the elaborate ceiling, you sit up to a little too quickly, holding your swimming head again.  

“Ah, ah!  Do not do that!  Lay down (Y/N)!.”  

You do it out of necessity, not by orders.  Peeking out, you see the person looking over your stats.

“Shuri!  Thank God, girl what’s going on?  Did T’Challa make it back with you?  Is-”

Shuri whips around, to feel your radial pulse.  “I need you to calm down, you’re getting too worked up.  I’ll fill you in on a few things, but for now I need you to rest.”

This wasn’t a satisfactory answer, but you decided to comply.  Your hand drops over your stomach and you feel a bunch of straps and wires. 

“Shuri, you can start by telling me what’s going on with me…” 

Shuri comes back over to you after tapping on a screen in front of her.  “You were dehydrated, seems your blood sugar was low too. I have put a nutrient patch on you to be able to distribute your needs on that, but when you’re up for it we can get you some actual food too.”

You hesitated to ask about the elephant in the room.  “Thanks. And what about…”

“The fetus?”  Shuri says matter-of-factly.  “Ah yes, it is strong as ever at this time.  Heartbeat is good, and appears to be progressing rather rapidly.”

You peer at her in confusion.  “Progressing rapidly? How fast would that be?  I can’t be but a couple-”

“You are at the equivalent of 6 weeks now.”  Shuri says curtly.

Your eyes flutter a moment.  “Six WEEKS? You say? Not hours, or even days, fucking WEEKS!  It hasn’t even been that long since T’Challa and I-”

Shuri waves her hands to stop your explanation.  “Yes, yes, I’m aware but this is expected. T’Challa being involved with someone while having the Heart Shaped Herb coursing through his veins raises things to another level, let’s just say.”

“Hell, Shuri, this is more than raising things a level.  I could be giving birth in a couple months at this rate!”

Shuri nods.  “That would be my approximation, yes.  But that’s only if you still want to.”

You pause as the situation weighs over you again.  That’s right, you had a choice still to make. “Shuri, right now I just want to know where T’Challa is honestly.  I can’t think of that right now.” You get up slowly, feeling more like yourself. Shuri helps you, taking the monitoring systems off of your abdomen, double checking the patch on your forehead.  

“Don’t mess your nutrient patch, it will dissolve automatically when your body has reached 100% on all of its levels.  As for your forehead, you had a bit of a gash so this is holding that down and healing you, administering painkillers when necessary.  Just come to me if it feels uncomfortable or if you have questions.”

“I have one question…”  You ask Shuri again, side eyeing her.

Shuri purses her mouth looking down at her hands.  First time you have seen her look unconfident. “We have yet to hear from T’Challa.  I have my kimoyo beads set to pick up his signal once he calls in, yours too in case you were wondering.  But for now, it’s been a bit of a waiting game.”

You sigh heavily, not wanting this to be the answer you got but there it is.  “What do you think is happening?”

Shuri raises her eyebrows thoughtfully.  “I know that Okoye and Ayo have headed back to America to help him in his fight.  I was not able to connect with T’Challa while I was there, so for my safety, they thought it best that I return until further notice.  They are the best warriors we have, trained for this sort of thing, so I know we will have an update soon enough.”

“Right, I saw Ayo running after, I assume Okoye.  They are the royal guard?”

“Dora Milaje.  Adored Ones, in english.  Been protecting Wakanda since its conception, and you should trust them with your life!”  Shuri says.

You nod.  “I already do.  Ayo got me away from Klaue and...Tavia!  What about her, where is she now?”

Shuri furrows her brow.  “In a holding cell, of course.  She will not be allowed to roam freely-”

“Can you take me to her?  No one has tortured her or anything right?”

Shuri takes offense to this.  “We are not barbarians. Unlike most countries, we do not torture prisoners, as it is nothing but a waste of time.  People do not react well to it, believe it or not. We are just holding her so we know where she is and can keep an eye on her until T’Challa comes back or...until T’Challa comes back.” 

Shuri looks sad for a moment, hugging herself.  You place a hand on her arm to comfort her. “I’m sorry to be so demanding of you.  This is just all too...new and foreign to me. It’s like I’m not even on Earth anymore and the only people I know is T’Challa and Tavia.  But thank God for you. I know your brother will be fine, I can just tell-” Your stomach flutters a moment and your press a hand there, cutting your train of thought.   Shuri looks at you concerned.

“Do you feel off?  Is the fetus-” 

“No, no.  It’s ok. I think it was some...movement?  God, I don’t know a damn thing about any of this…”

Shuri shushes you.  “It’s ok! Here, Queen Mother wanted to meet with you again anyway, once your strength was back to normal.”  Shuri takes you by the arm leading you on.

“Oh, ok.  And Shuri, is Queen Mother like, THE Queen?  In charge?” You ask hesitantly.

“She is Queen, yes, but not necessarily in charge.  She has been when my father was alive, but since his passing, she serves as an advisor more than anything, to T’Challa.  Most people can’t get through to him but Mama has influence still, luckily.”

Your pace with her slows as you come to a realization.  “Shuri, that gorgeous woman, regal and ageless, is your mother?”

Shuri cackles.  “Yes, she does well for herself, eh?”

You laugh nervously.  “So then I am meeting T’Challa’s mother?  Right now?”

Shuri looks at you like you’re going crazy.  “That would be what that means, friend. Don’t get cold feet about it, she has a great personality, never raises her voice unless necessary.  She already knows about you and T’Challa being an item, he has essentially introduced you already.”

You put on a soft face thinking about T’Challa talking to his mother about you.  He was the sweetest thing...IS. Is the sweetest thing.

“Wow, ok.  I’m going to meet his mom, wow.  I wondered because Queens I always thought were rulers, but the Mother part through me off so-”

“Did you think T’Challa had several wives or something?”  Shuri cackles, but when you don’t join she clicks her tongue at you.  “Ahhh, American girl, you! We don’t all do polygamy here! And certainly not the royal faction, as it creates to big of a mess when a monarch dies.  Can you imagine several Queen Mothers? Trust me, it would not be a sweet sight. You are funny though, daring to love T’Challa through a sisterwife, my Bast, girl.”  Shuri rubs your back as you finally begin to loosen up, thankful that she at least made it back to you in Wakanda.

The royal palace had several levels to it, Shuri’s lab being one of them.   Going through the vast corridors, elevators, and ramps flanked by Xoliswa as an escort, you and Shuri make your way to the throne room.  You felt like a pauper going to a ball when the heavy doors were opened by two other Dora Milaje. Your mouth flaps open in awe at the openness of the room, large windows letting the Wakandan sun paint the room better than any incandescent light could ever achieve.  You adored the natural landscape of the mountain the palace was built into, mixed with the futuristic architecture that seemed to suitably represent the Wakandan people. 

Shuri turns to you.  “This is where I must leave you.  Queen Mother expressed wanting this to be a one on one meeting.”

Your anxiety builds up again like clockwork.  “Oh no, Shuri! Please I can’t-”

Shuri holds your hands tightly.   “You have got this! She won’t bite you, and if she does, bite back.  She appreciates the presence of a backbone, so…” Shuri claps your arms, putting her shoulders back motioning for you to follow suit.  “I promise, she is not bad at all. I’ve had to deal with her for 17 years, it’s not that hard.”

You smile at Shuri, thanking her.  “Honestly girl, you are too damn smart.  Before you, no one could tell me a teenager could teach me a thing or two to keep me in check.”

Shuri shrugs.  “Well, I am not just a teenager.  I am responsible for billions, upon billions of tons of vibranium and manufacturing its usage.  This is child’s play.” With that, Shuri walks away from you leaving you with Queen Mother.

Walking towards her, her back is to you, having not acknowledged your presence just yet.  A throne sits in the middle of the floor, framed with metal and engravings that you don’t understand.  You assume that must be T’Challa’s seat. He really downplayed his situation here.

Queen Mother turns to you, looking warm as the sun’s rays cascading behind her.  “It's so good to see you up and about (Y/N).” She glides over to you, hands out.

You feel welcomed, coming up to her excitedly, taking her hands in yours. “I feel much better, thank you Queen Mother.”  

Her smiles lights up even more.  “You have a lovely voice, do you sing?” 

You laugh, taken by the compliment.  “Oh no, not outside of my bathroom, that's for sure.”

“Oh, that's too bad.  But let me formally welcome you to Wakanda.  I wish the circumstances were different but I have wanted to meet you.”

“And I am so glad to meet you.  Like you said, just under different circumstance would’ve been nice.  With T’Challa here.”

Queen Mother’s eyes turn sad a moment but her smile perseveres through it.  “This is true. But I know my son, and he is a fighter, especially for what he believes in.  I know he would not stop until the mission is complete, whatever that is at this point. Can you tell me a little about what happened.”

“Yeah, I was just ambushed by some guy named Erik who was trying to take me to a guy named Klaue, I think?  I don’t know them from anywhere but they knew me and that I knew T’Challa.”

Queen Mother rests her hand at her chest fidgeting at her clothes.  “Klaue, you say?”

You nod.  “Yeah, some white guy with a British accent I think?  Has some robotic arm thing.”

Queen Mother paces away from you.  “Yes, I have heard of him before. It is not the first time Klaue has tried to wreak havoc amongst our people, unfortunately.”

“Queen Mother, I think he was using me to get to T’Challa.  I wouldn’t be surprised, he never told me he had these heightened abilities or a-a suit that makes him bulletproof.” you say stammering.

Queen Mother turns to you, looking at you pitifully.  “Daughter, he didn’t tell you? My Bast, he is just as mum as his father used to be over the most important things.  And what a time to find out.”

“Yeah!  I was pretty upset, but right now, I just want him to be alright.  This Erik dude was giving him a good ass whoopin to say the least. Tavia told me they were cousins, is that true?”

Queen Mother kisses her teeth, shaking her head.  “I still don’t know a thing about this charlatan. He has just come out of thin air, but if he is with Klaue it cannot be good.  I wouldn’t say it is possible though. T’Chaka only had one sibling and he produced no children.” Queen Mother places a hand on the throne muttering something to herself under her breath.  

A moment of silence passes between you all, the weight of what’s happening lulls the conversation to a halt.  You feel like you are intruding all of a sudden.

“Was that...I mean, is that his seat?  T’Challa’s?”

Queen Mother’s face picks up at your question.  “Oh yes, and his father’s before him, and so on.  The position of Black Panther in Wakanda is one of great honor, and luckily T’Challa was more than ready to pick it up after his untimely death.”

“My condolences to you.”  You offer.

Queen Mother nods lightly.  “Thank you, daughter. T’chaka and I were together for almost 40 years, he was my cherished partner and wonderful father to the children.”

“Wow.  That amazes me, the movies make it seem like when you get powers, the men are just immortal and unstoppable.”  You say.

“Yes, well you cannot believe everything you see on screen.  I think that is an inhumane way of living, in my opinion. No, the ancestors are the most important part of becoming Black Panther.  We give reverence to the men and women who have headed the country.”

“Oh!  So it’s not just men?  Could Shuri take up the throne if she wanted to?”

“Of course!  At one point, it seemed she might have been the best bet:  T’Challa had a lot of growing up to do, getting into all kinds of hijinks with his friends.  I thought T’Chaka spoiled him honestly, parading his son around the world like a sports trophy.”  Queen Mother chuckles reminiscing. “But eventually, T’Challa became a man, not long after his father’s age started to show.  And he realized what would be expected of him. But Shuri still had a chance to challenge for the throne, we give it as an option to allow for inclusion of each of the tribes to lead the nation.  She just keeps herself in the lab all day, the throne doesn’t matter to her.”

You shake your head, remembering a little of what Tavia had told you earlier about the path to the throne Erik plans to take. For now you keep that bit of information to yourself.  Wakanda was more than you could’ve thought it would be. “So democratic! Queen Mother, thank you for talking to me about all of this, it’s really amazing your country has, historically, culturally.  I feel like heathen trotting up here.”

Queen Mother bats at you jokingly.  “Don’t dare say that! Any friend of my son, is a good person indeed.  You are just as welcome here as anyone else. And while I have you here, tell me, how did you meet my T’Challa?  He told me, but I’d love to hear your version.”

You and Queen Mother sat down and talked over the courtship between you and T’Challa.  Seeing him at the coffeeshop and your small talk, running into him again and going out on your first date and the few dates after.  

“And he just swept me off of my feet!  He seemed so down to earth and and kind and of course being handsome didn’t hurt anything at all.”  This made Queen Mother laugh. “But he never made me feel less than. And I really appreciate that, because I mean, I have always made reasons to doubt myself and think I’m too much of a wallflower to be considered interesting.  But T’Challa makes me feel really good about myself. Or at least he he has helped me realize what is great about me, I don’t want to give him too much credit.”

“That’s right (Y/N), a man does not make you.  I always told T’Chaka that I was a queen with or without his marriage proposal.  And when you love someone, they should elevate you to a new state of being because it’s new!  It’s fun! But they do not make you who you are.” 

“I know that’s right, Queen!”  You offer up a high five, which she takes part in jovially.  Patting your knee, Queen Mother speaks to you in quieter tone.  “And I didn’t want to bring up a sensitive subject but something has been brought to my attention that I think is worth noting.  I know young people get a little ahead of themselves and things happen that maybe were not planned...”

Your stomach starts to flutter again as you grab at it feeling the good times of you and Queen Mother talking starting to disintegrate.  

Queen Mother notices your mood change.  “(Y/N), you do not need to fret, please remain calm!  I’m not wanting to attack you for anything or make decisions for you, this is your body to maintain autonomy over.”

“Oh, but I wanna know what you think!  I never intended this to happen, and right after finding out anything about his ROYAL status, I didn’t want to appear like I’m trying to trap him in something.”

“No, no!  I can tell from what T’Challa has told me and what I see about you, that is not your way.  Really, put that out of your mind.”

You take a deep breath, calming yourself.  “Right, sorry.”

“I know T’Challa would stand by you, through it all.  Him making me a grandmother can be a pro and a con, but I would happily assume the role.  But with this pregnancy you have to figure things out very, very soon. When I became pregnant with Shuri, I remember it going by so fast because it did.  The seasons hadn’t properly changed from one to another before she arrived.”

“Yeah, they said I’m like 6 weeks?  Which is not true to the timetable of things happening.”  

Queen Mother nods knowingly.  “Yes, that’s most likely true.  I really thought T’Challa would be more responsible.  However, I can understand if this is confusing and a lot to wrap your head around, so please do not hesitate to come to me to talk about how you are feeling.  When T’Challa gets back I’d highly recommend it actually.”

You thank her for the advice.  “I would love that, thank you. I’m just taking it day by day, but I have to see T’Challa before anything is set.  And actually, if it’s not against protocol or something, I would love to go see my friend Tavia. She is a prisoner here last I heard and I just need to talk things over with her.”

Queen Mother looks at you confused.  “She is a friend? But wasn’t she working alongside the people kidnapping you?”

You take a deep breath nodding slowly.  “Yeah, yeah it’s been a rough day for me.  But that’s why I want to see her, so I can get a little more information from her why she would do this, friend to friend.”

“That is admirable of you to think of doing that, but I understand.  Xoliswa!” Queen Mother calls out and the Dora Milaje who escorted you appears through the doors.  “Please show (Y/N) to the holding rooms to see our recent guest. Thank you again for being so patient with us during this time.”

You smile humbly.  “No, it’s nothing. You guys have had my back, I owe you a lot right now.”  You part ways from Queen Mother to follow Xoliswa to the holding room, as she called it.  Getting into an elevator you try chatting with Xoliswa. “So...how long have you been a Dora Milaje?”

“I feel like I was born into it.  My destiny being predetermined by our god Bast themself.  But to formally answer your question for about seven years now.”  Xoliswa says, remaining forward facing.

You shift your weight anxiously.  “That’s pretty cool. Like, I don’t see very many women only armies anywhere.  Are you friends with Ayo and Okoye?”

“We are a sisterhood, closer than friends.  I trust them with my life and they trust me with theirs.  I wouldn’t do that for a run of the mill acquaintance.”

“Oh sure, you’re right about that.  It’s awesome to see, I couldn’t shave my head though, that’s where I draw the line.”

You hear what may have been a snicker from Xoliswa.  “The training we endure would be the line drawn. I can’t speak on it, but believe me when I say.”

“Oh, I can’t hack it?  I can fight and stuff, you know.  I don’t like to run though, so maybe I can be a Dora Administrator or something.  Your suits come in XL?”

Xoliswa shakes her head slowly, you could tell she was smiling with her eyes.  It made you feel good to crack her hardened exterior, gave you a sense of pride.

The elevator doors open to a lounge area with beige walls and easy chairs scattered about.  Light music plays as you and Xoliswa walk through down one corridor that leads to a spacious well lit area where Tavia sat reading a magazine very nonchalantly.  Tavia looks up and sees you, tossing her magazine to the side and waving. 

“Hey girl!  You see this shit!  Wassup Grace Jones, thanks for bringing my friend around!”

Xoliswa dismisses herself leaving you and Tavia alone.  

“Tavia, you look good considering everything.”  You step towards her looking at her ‘cell’.

Tavia puts her hands up.  “Don’t walk too fast (Y/N)!  There a force field thing right before you cross that dip in the ground there.  It’s invisible to the naked eye but it’s there, since you know, it’s prison and shit.”  You stop in your tracks, spooked by her warning. “Oh, you won’t get shocked or nothing!  Just don’t want you knocking into the window like them birds in the Windex commercials. Take a seat there, let’s talk!”

Taking a seat in front of Tavia, you take a quick look around the area before settling in.  A gentle waterfall in the wall to the right of you, a grand fish tank to the left. You felt like you were in the world’s best doctors office or spa.

Tavia bounces in her seat.  “Girl, can you believe this?  This place is better than where we live!  Can you believe??”

“Tavia, we gotta talk about your mess.  This isn’t a vacation!” You say getting heated at her chillness.

Tavia leans her head back dramatically.  “Oh my God, fine! Long as I can take a nap after, let’s do this.”

“So...what you were telling me was the truth; about Erik getting ready to take the throne from T’Challa?”

Tavia studies her nails nodding.  “Uh huh, it’s the only way he sees his plan coming to fruition because T’Challa don’t wanna do everything he gotta do to make sure people are kept safe from the world’s threats.”

“His mama said they can’t be cousins, so maybe he really is just insane! Why can’t he just,  I don’t know, talk to him about it! Instead of kidnapping me and turning you into his flunky!”  You exclaim throwing your hands up.

Tavia clutches at her chest.  “What does she know! Flunky sis?  Come on, I ain’t out here calling you a cum dumpster too dumb to know not to play with a gun off safety chile.”  

“There was protection, fucking judging ass!  There’s some biological shit that brought this on.   What the fuck is wrong with you talkin to me like that?”

Tavia shrugged.  “That’s what happens when you fuck with an alien, literally and figuratively.  It’s how I feel and I don’t bite my tongue, you know that.”

“I don’t know shit about you!  You haven’t been 100 with me and this is a big fucking deal.  We in a country we don’t know! I’m having a baby that I don’t know if I want because my boyfriend is some mutant King hero person-”

“...which he lied by omission sis…”

You pause your rant to stare down Tavia.  “I’m sick of you thinking you know everything.  You don’t know a damn thing, and I’m definitely not sharing shit with you no more.”

Tavia wipes her eyes dramatically.  “Boo hoo! I know you been my friend for years and I don’t have many, much less for that long.  But I felt you getting distant when you started seeing him. You wanted to hear my opinion on him all during then, right?  More than ready to share y’all gettin busy, throwing it in my damn face-”

“You asked for that!  You wanted to know!” Your voice strained at the pitch she sent you to.

Tavia waves you off.  “Girl whatever. You didn’t have to tell me every detail.  You annoy the shit outta me sometimes. This the most action your boring ass has gotten, be thankful for that.”

You get up  almost forgetting the barrier between the two of you as you fumed.  “Your guy might have killed my man now! Do you get that much? Cuz that seemed to be what the fight was coming down to, dead or alive your crazy ass man wants to skin him alive.”  You feel a sharp pain in your abdomen, making you double over slightly.

Tavia sighs.  “Oh here you go.  Ain’t nothin goin on in your stomach girl.  You probably ain’t even pregnant to begin with, just bad cramps from a late period or too much burrito.”

“Fuck off Tavia!”  You wince at the pain in your stomach.  Before you can explain the progression of your pregnancy the trill of  your kimoyo beads steal your attention. A little Shuri pops up to greet you.

“(Y/N), he’s here!  He’s come back!” She says excitedly.

Xoliswa comes around the corner.  “Follow me, quickly as you can!”

You ignore the pain in your stomach as you go to the elevator shaft.

“Hey!  Who’s here?  Is Erik here?  (Y/N)!” Tavia beats on her enclosure as her demands fade while you run to see T’Challa.

You prayed Erik wasn’t there too, even though the thought of T’Challa killing is almost worse.  At the entrance to the palace you almost keep up with Xoliswa running towards where the aircraft landed to see T’Challa being held up by a woman in green, straining to hold his weight up.  T’Challa looked worse for wear; one eye swollen shut, lip busted and he kept limping and holding his stomach. Some Dora Milaje helped lay him down on a gurney as Shuri looked him over speaking to him.  Queen Mother was choking up, tears streaming her face as she held his hand to her chest, then she noticed you. Saying something to who you remembered as Okoye, made her come towards you.

“Come with me now.  You will be able to see him in a moment.”

You shake your head as you tried to anchor yourself against her guiding you away.  Queen Mother, Shuri, and the woman in green hustle on to the elevators flanked by some Dora Milaje.  A second gurney came after them; you could barely make out the face due to an oxygen mask, but his locs helped you to remember.  

“No, no.  Okoye, right?  I can’t not be with him.  T’Challa is my boyfriend, I have a right-”

“It is an order from Queen Mother that you sit this out until-”

“Until what??  What if he slips into a coma, or dies!?  He won’t know I am here! He could be worried about me!”

Okoye doesn’t say anything but continues to hold her patience as she pulls you to another room.

“I am carrying his child!  Does that mean anything! Take me to him now!  Agh, wait, I’m hurting!”


	9. Chapter 9

Okoye looks at you with heightened concern. Looking from your belly to your strained expression she continues to walk you away. “(Y/N), please, sit down and calm yourself. We cannot risk you miscarrying at this moment. Breathe!”

You stop in your tracks, staring at her with a deadly expression. “Then take me to him now. I won’t interfere and I’m not glass, I’ll be fine. I just need to see his face.”

Okoye locks her jaw looking around a moment to think, switching her spear from one hand to the next. “You are brave to talk to me like this.”

You swallow hard but remain steadfast. “I don’t meant to, I just want to know he is alright...ugh…” You bend over clutching one side of your stomach.

Okoye tuts at you, helping you to standing position. “Ok, ok. You get five minutes; less if things are...out of hand.” Okoye holds you up slightly as you both walk towards Shuri’s lab facility.

Voices are raised as the elevator opens to the floor T’Challa is on. They’re distant so you and Okoye follow them as they become louder. Passing one examination area, you see Erik lying peacefully on bed with an oxygen mask on his face. He didn’t even look like he was hurt, just taking a nap from the looks of things. Two Dora Milaje stand outside his area on guard. Okoye whispers something that didn’t sound nice in tone in her native language as she rolled her eyes at him and carried you on.

The journey to where T’Challa laid is a strenuous one as your stomach contracts relentlessly.

“We are almost there…” Okoye whispers, nodding at you in encouragement. You were starting to regret your stubbornness to see T’Challa immediately during this unknown fit of pain until you finally see him.

Shuri and a couple of others were working overseeing him, laying bandages across parts of his body, checking his vitals around his bed. The woman in green is beside her too, questioning the numbers on the board. Shuri instructs one of her assistants when you catch her peripheral vision. She clenches her jaw as she says a few more words to the others before coming out.

“Okoye, what is she doing here?” Shuri says strongly.

“I can speak for...myself Shuri. How...is he?” You gasp between the twists happening in your guts.

Shuri looks you over, laying a hand on your shoulder. “You do not look well. What is happening? Are you in pain?”

You try to wave off her concern, pushing past her. “I don’t care about that right now, I want to see him!”

Shuri blocks the way to T’Challa. “I need to get you in a room and examine your pregnancy. You are obviously experiencing trauma to the point of a possible miscarriage.”

Okoye steps between you two. “Princess, I suggest allowing her to speak her peace with the King at once. Delaying her request only makes the situation worse, she is so very determined to do this. Forcing her otherwise could make things worse, in fact.”

Then, the woman in green appears from behind Shuri. “Hello, I know we have not met but I am Nakia, a friend of T’Challa’s. I am so sorry you have had to go through this today, but I assure you everything is fine now. Shuri, are you letting her see him?”

Shuri puts her hands on her hips defiantly. “You only get-”

“Five minutes, yeah yeah. I’d have seen him by now at this rate.” You say sarcastically. Nakia smiles at you before walking down the hall. Her walk is elegant, voice like butter on bread, just smooth and flavorful. You hold it in your mind to ask about her when things calm down.

As you approach T’Challa the assistants notice your presences, stepping back to give you access to him. You feel yourself calm as you lean on the bed, looking over him. One eye is swollen, lip cracked from a hit. A bandage covers one area of his chest; the cause of the wound you’d rather not know.

As he lies down with his eyes closed, you don’t even notice the subsiding of your pain, getting caught up in the image of your love lying there helplessly.

“He should be fine, I assure you. Luckily with the Heart Shaped Herb, he has a fast, regenerative healing ability. We are just helping the process along.” Shuri says from a distance.

You nod mindlessly, only wanting to watch him rest, wanting so badly for him to awaken.

“Ohh, T’Challa. What have you gotten yourself into?” You whisper to him. Your hand travels to his face, lightly caressing his widow’s peak as you love to do. Your throat starts to feel tight as your eyes burn with tears. This is why he didn’t want to tell you. If this was the kind of life he was living, you would be feeling this way for who knows how often. You rest your head on the pillow space not occupied by him as tears ran across the bridge of your nose.

“Ahh, umhle…” he croaks.

Your head pops up at the exact moment he speaks. “T’Challa? You’re awake?”

His face looks strained as he stirs a little. “Maybe a little too soon…”

Shuri rushes in to look over his vitals. “Good to have you with us, brother. You’ve given us quite a shock with your condition. Worse than usual.”

T’Challa groans. “I must be ok if you have time for jokes.” T’Challa peers over at you, stretching his bruised hand out. “(Y/N), what happened to you? You have a mark on your head.”

You reach up, forgetting about the remnants of the crash you still display. “Oh, right. Don’t worry about it, I just got a little banged up during the whole thing at the club.”

T’Challa tries to sit up.

“Lay yourself back down! You are not properly healed yet, and I really need you to talk less. (Y/N), two more minutes.” Shuri reminds you.

“Enough! You get so bossy when I’m away.” T’Challa tells her. “I’m so sorry you got in the midst of all of this, my love. It shouldn’t be this way.”

You shake your head, holding his hand tightly, playing with his ring. “You couldn’t help what that asshole was planning. You did all you were supposed to, and with Shuri and Ayo’s help, I am alive. This scar is nothing for what could’ve been.”

T’Challa nods, blinking slowly. “That is good to here. But what about…” His voice trails off as his eyes linger on your midsection. You look down, taking his hand to spread it across your stomach. All you could do is nod for the amount of emotion stirring underneath the surface of your calm demeanor. T’Challa’s head falls back on his pillow as he closes his eyes.

“Thank Bast. I prayed I wouldn’t awake to a loss.”

You swallow, keeping your voice as level as possible as you spoke. “I was not sure about this before, ChaCha, I really wasn’t. With all that has happened, I felt even less like I wanted to bring a child into this world if it meant its father was doing this stuff. But, seeing you just now and thinking over all the good I have experienced with you and your family supporting me…” Your voice cracks as your vision blurs. T’Challa caresses your face, running his thumb over your edges comforting you.

You lean over to kiss him softly. While chapped and cracked, it was still electrifying for you as ever.

When you part, T’Challa says, “You continue to lift my spirits whenever I am with you, a feat I will never ignore.” Suddenly he goes into a coughing fit.

Shuri lays a hand on your shoulder. “Guys, let’s go ahead and take a break so we don’t get worked up again. (Y/N), I’ll let you know when T’Challa is ready for another visit, but it’s time for him to rest now.”

T’Challa takes your hand, kissing it. It takes everything within you to walk away from him, but you took solace in the fact that he is getting well.

Heading back to the elevators with Okoye, a man with scars on his face in a blue patterned blanket stands outside the area Erik is laying.

Okoye slows her pace calling out to him. She and the man talk back and forth rapidly, voices sharp and strained at certain parts of the conversation, but no way could you decipher.

Okoye looks back at you. “Apologies this is my significant other W’Kabi, emphasis on the ‘other’ at the moment.”

W’Kabi side eyes Okoye. “Do not make my first impression an ill one, love. I hear you are the apple of our King’s eye at the moment, eh?”

Okoye answers for you. “She is not a moment, do not be rude. And don’t even think about hounding T’Challa about Klaue, he is not our concern anymore.”

W’Kabi perks up. “T’Challa killed him?”

Okoye sighs. “He died during the fight.”

W’Kabi squints at Okoye. “T’Challa didn’t kill him? Why? Who did? How?”

You were over W’Kabi’s attitude and decide to take control of the situation. “Ughh, ohh, I don’t feel well…” You clutch your stomach, heaving.

Okoye holds you, walking around W’Kabi to the elevator. “I have other obligations W’Kabi, let us be for now. Keep watch over your men at the border.”

Finally you and Okoye make it into the elevator to travel to the intended destination.

“Thank you for breaking that up. I know you weren’t actually unwell. I appreciate that.” Okoye says, maintaining her gaze straight ahead.

You nod, relaxing. “Sooo...what is his deal?” You ask.

Okoye’s shoulders drop as her eyes look around for an answer. “His history with the man that worked with the outsider that is here is extensive. Klaue was the cause of many deaths here in one day, including his parents. He has wanted revenge for as long as I can remember and T’Challa promised that.”

“Sounds like something he would do. Are they friends?”

Okoye nods, smiling slightly. “Since they were boys, pranking each other and messing around with the rhinos. W’Kabi holds him to high esteem.”

You tuck your lips, feeling silly as you ask your next question. “And what about you guys? How long have you been together and shiiiit?”

Okoye turns to you wide eyed. “Excuse me? Your language needs to be clean around me, understand?”

You shrink within yourself. “Sorry.”

Okoye shakes her head straightening up again. “But to answer, we have known each other since I started training to be a Dora, so 15 years? A couple for six.”

“Woooow, that’s good. The best one start as friends, I always hear. And I like you seem to wear the pants and all.”

Okoye’s mouth opens and closes a couple times before continuing. “We balance each other out, (Y/N). So, even though I could kill a man an infinite amount of ways before he could blink, W’Kabi has as much say as I do in what matters to one another personally. He is not weak, and I am not expected to remain strong at all times...which can be nice…”

The elevators open to a floor with low lighting. It appeared more lowkey compared to the bright and bustling vibe of Shuri’s lab. Okoye goes up to a door typing in a code to unlock them. As they roll open, you are lead into a living space.

“This is where you will be staying.” Okoye announces as you continue to look around.

You were impressed by the space; tall ceilings, large windows covered by heavy curtains. You could see parallels between the style of T’Challa’s condo and this room.

“Thank you, Okoye. I really do love it!” You walk over to sit on the couch, lounging back on it.

“Well, like it or not, this is it. I will come by in the morning with word on T’Challa’s condition. You focus on resting yourself, it’s been a long day, eh?”

“You can say that again.” You say as Okoye dismisses herself from the residence. You basked in the comforts of a soft surface to lay on, looking at the sunset through the cracks in the curtain parts. The exhaustion from the last two days catches up to you as you lay there, feeling pressure on your eyes as you fight to keep them open. Your hand rests on your stomach, followed by a fluttery feeling.

“Ohhh, you caused me a lot of trouble today, so don’t even right now.” You scold your belly as you lift your shirt a little to see. Your stomach still looked like it’s usual self, but you felt better staring at it knowing a little you and T’Challa rested inside.

“So I have decided to keep you, little one. Wow, saying it out loud is a revelation. But it’s true so flutter if you’re happy.” You wait a moment before being greeted by a tickle. “There you are….yeah I just don’t think I can give you up after all of this. Your dad is pretty damn cool, lemme tell you. But you already know, you’re super cool already, growing all fast. Don’t grow too fast though, huh? You’re my first, I wanna savor this, and tell people about it before you get here.”

Your eyes can’t keep up with the conversation as they drift. “I might be crazy for this, but I want you to see all of this for yourself. I need someone else to see this so I know I’m not dreaming. ChaCha makes everything feel like that though, you get used to it…” You meant to make it to the bedroom to rest properly but that’s just how good the couch is. You probably said a few more things but they became lost in the dreamscape of your mind as you fell asleep.

Your mind is busy while you’re sleeping, replaying all of the days events over and over again with varying outcomes. One dream consisted of you running through the holding area Tavia’s in, being chased by something you couldn’t see. The voices were loud and clear though, cursing you and demanding you to stop as gunshots rang out. You called for T’Challa in vain as the voices came closer, shots ringing right by your ear until suddenly a hand wraps around your waist.

You sit up quickly, hyperventilating and sweating in the calm of the living room.

“(Y/N)?”

Your heart stops as your body jolts away from the voice looking in its direction.

T’Challa looks at you empathetically, laying a hand on your knee. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, umhle.”

Your chest heaves with breath, trying to calm down as you stare at him feeling your forehead for fever. “You’re warm, do I need to call Shuri to examine you?”

“DO I NEED TO CALL SHURI TO EXAMINE YOU?? You were just laid out in that hospital bed on your last leg, and you’re wondering what’s wrong with me?!” You exclaim in confusion. Looking him over, turning his head back and forth, amazed by no sign of a black eye or swollen lip. Pulling at his shirt roughly to look down and find no bandages.

T’Challa just smirks, unphased by your outburst as he sits next to you on the couch with one arm wrapped around you. “I missed you too, my sweet.”

As his arms came around you, you felt the flutter in your stomach again, as if to remind you to be kind and calm to its father. Laying a hand there, you snuggle to T’Challa, closing your eyes and sighing deeply.

“I have missed you T’Challa. I’m just so confused and in shock, I couldn’t bear doing all of that alone.”

T’Challa’s head rests on top of yours. “I’m so sorry I lost you. Erik kept me pretty busy and I just couldn’t keep up anymore, but you have my word that won’t happen again, you are too important to me.”

“You don’t have to promise me that. I know your intentions are good and things will happen, but you aren’t to blame.”

T’Challa sighs, holding you tighter. “I have been kicking myself for not letting you in since I met you. Maybe if I was more forthcoming, you would’ve been more prepared for something like this-”

You look up at him, laying a hand on his chest. His eyes moistened but resisted any tears from falling. “Stop beating yourself up! You got enough of that already today. ”

T’Challa smiles weakly as you lay your hand to the side of his face. “I understand why this would’ve been difficult to tell me about now. I probably would’ve laughed in your face, especially describing your suit, cuz that leaves little to the imagination, ok? But whatever could’ve changed from telling me, it doesn’t matter now, because I am safe, lying here with you ok?”

T’Challa shakes his head, eyes twinkling in admiration. “That’s why I am crazy about you. You know just how to reset me when I short circuit.”

You giggle before stop short. “Wait, that is a joke, right? You’re not part robot, or something?”

T’Challa chides you as his hands find your sides tickling you into submission. “Fine, FINE! You’re not a robot, staaaahp!”

You share a hearty laugh together, the first good one in what felt like ages. “But what did Erik do to you to make you so bruised and shit? You did not look good at all ChaCha.”

“He got his too, trust me. And he gets up a lot slower, might I add. But it’s a blur really, at some point he tricked me playing dead and when I retracted from my suit, he got ahold of my necklace, so that’s when the bruising really occurred since I had no armor.”

“Wow, were you trying to kill him?” You asked cautiously.

T’Challa shrugs. “Not necessarily, but if it had to happen so he would stop, I was willing. Especially after he shot me.

“YOU GOT SHOT!?” You exclaim, ready to tear into him for details.

Suddenly your kimoyo beads light up, interrupting the good time you were having. It was Shuri.

“Hey! How are-”

“Where is T’Challa?!” Shuri asks rather rudely.

Before you could speak, T’Challa sticks his head around. “Hello sister! I hope I haven’t worried you!”

Shuri rolls her eyes aggressively. “Your monitors made it look like your heart had stopped, and then I check on you to see you’re gone, OF COURSE I AM WORRIED!”

T’Challa sighs. “I am well, just catching up with (Y/N). Erik is still knocked out?”

Shuri nods. “Yes, contained and under sedation until we go to question him. Well, let me not keep you two. (Y/N), since he is feeling so well, remind him to make you a proper meal in the morning for you and the baby, ok?”

T’Challa responds, “Oh, if you could put in an order for me with the kitchen staff? We would like-”

“....umntu ovila (lazy person). Boy bye!” Shuri says followed by a swift hang up.

“T’Challa, stop giving your sister such a hard time. The girl has done a lot since you were gone, and patching you up too! I still cannot believe...”

T’Challa crosses his arms. “Ohh, she has a high tolerance, built up by years of experience. But I’m glad you are so chumy with her. Did you make your acquaintance with anyone else?” T’challa asks, changing the subject.

You roll your eyes but continue. “Yes! Actually, I did. I met couple Dora Menage’s, Ayo and Okoye. They all are so damn cool, with the bald heads and spears and strength, it’s dope!”

T’Challa chuckles. “Dora Milaje, my love. And yes, they are Wakanda’s most trusted protectors for centuries, so they are indeed awesome.”

“They are hundred of years old?? Oh my God, do they get a serum too for immortality?” You ask excitedly.

“No! What are you- I meant that their position has been around for years, not them specifically. We aren't immortal, that’s crazy.”

You side eye T’Challa. “Oh ok, of everything I’ve seen THAT is the craziest, cool.”

T’Challa rubs your back tutting at you. “It’s ok, you get used to it quickly. Now what else happened while I was under.”

“Umm, I met your mother, Queen Mother to be specific. She is soooo beautiful T’Challa, and a personality to match. We had a great talk about things going on, and the baby, she really spoke to me like we knew each other forever.”

T’Challa’s face smiles warmly. “Yes, she is great. I’m happy to hear that.”

“Other than that, just a bunch of people here and there, but those were the main ones.” You pause before continuing. “T’Challa, what’s going to happen with Erik and Tavia? I can’t imagine they will be treated lightly for what has happened.”

T’Challa looks away from you as his face drops. “Well, we don’t have to talk about that tonight. I have kept you up long enough.”

You shake your head vigorously. “No, I’m up now, we can talk some more.”

T’Challa gets up, taking you by the hand. “Can we just go to bed?” T’Challa raises his eyebrows suggestively. You scoff at him, crossing your arms, not moving.

T’Challa looks up to the sky before sitting down by your legs. “Bast and the ancestors. Listen (Y/N), I have plans to see them tomorrow to question them and their motives and from their, I honestly have no plans yet for them after that, ok?”

You marinate on his words. Tavia told you of some of the plans they had, but you weren’t sure if you should tell him or wait for them. “I spoke to Tavia the other day, before you and Erik came back together.”

T’Challa’s expression turns serious as you spoke. “What did you all discuss.”

“The obvious: how could she do this to me as a friend and to you as my boyfriend. How could a guy make her so crazy to even be down for this.”

“And? What did she say?”

You hesitate. “T’Challa, if I tell you, you won’t have any reason to question them tomorrow.”

T’Challa holds up his hand in surrender. “I plan to give them a fair trial either way, please, tell me. This is important.”

You think he sounds calm and collected enough, so you did. You told them about Erik planning to take the throne from T’Challa and even that they were possibly related.

T’Challa shakes his head. “That is not possible, my uncle had no children and has long been presumed dead.”

You shrug. “That is what she told me. Shuri could just run a blood test for that, right? And then you both could-”

T’Challa shakes his head, holding his hands together in frustration. “That’s not going to happen. It’s impossible, so why waste the time.”

You peer at T’Challa. “ChaCha, this isn’t something you should brush under the rug. At least consider it.”

T’Challa looks at you with an unreadable expression. He may not have even been looking at you exactly, just your direction while his mind was elsewhere. You sit up, scooting towards him laying your hands on his shoulder. “Don’t go into this with a heart overrun with unchecked emotions. You hold the cards now, so look at this objectively. I wanted to keep this from you for these reasons, I tell you, it’s tough keeping secrets.”

“Tell me about it.” T’Challa says flatly.

You reach for his widow’s peak, stroking it gently as your belly flutters. “We are counting on you to be a great man, which you already are. Don’t overcompensate where it’s unnecessary.”

T’Challa takes your wrist, bringing your fingers down to his lips, kissing their tips. “You have my word, and my heart...and my undivided attention.”

T’Challa reaches for your hips, snaking his hands down your thighs to bring you across his lap facing him as you straddle.

“Shuri said I am 6 weeks at least.” You whisper in his ear.

T’Challa beams with pride, grabbing your waist and rolling small circles over your stomach. “My Bast, our little bean must be excited to see the world.”

“Little Bean, that’s cute ChaCha.” You feel at home in his lap, those big beautiful eyes looking up at you is the best view you can imagine. There had to be a reason for falling for him so fast, one that was not in vain. Maybe your future child is one but your inner confidence being fortified by T’Challa’s cosigning and being exposed to a new world, much better than any you have known so far, seemed to help to assure you were on the right path as well.

You rest your forehead to T’Challa’s feeling a need build inside of you that he must have felt himself as his hands dipped between your legs to feel you through your bottoms. Kissing him deeply, it felt good to express your love without worry, as the night concluded with passion uninhibited.

\---

The next morning, you look over to T’Challa laid across the bed, out like a light. So much for breakfast, as you check the time reading 11 am. Getting up to get dressed, you take your time, feeling more and more at home with the Wakanda lifestyle. The closet was filled with choices, all in your size of the latest Wakandan fashion. You smile to yourself feeling the sturdy yet soft fabrics of all sorts of colors, thanking whomever (most likely Shuri) for being so accommodating. You stay conservative, in a maroon colorblocked top with a tail in the back and some black leggings and sandals.

Looking around the living area, you find a clear glass door with food behind it that appears to be the fridge. You have an apple with a chocolate spread that is even better than Nutella, and if the label was right, carried enough nutrients for a balanced breakfast.

You rubbed your belly or ‘Little Bean’ as your body digested and began to grow restless. You decide that you want to see what Shuri is up to, just to get out and do something until T’Challa wakes.

Getting on the elevator, you make you way to her lab floor, still buy but way more normal than yesterday. As you walk down you pass the area in which Erik is located. You would’ve missed it since no Dora were guarding at that point. He looks as rested as T’Challa is, still sedated as he lays. No one was in the hall to stop you as you walk towards his bed. Looking him over, you can see his attractiveness. T’Challa wasn’t wrong though about getting his licks in; one eye blackened, the other has a decent gash above his eyebrow. There was bruising around his nose, and a similar cut on his lip like T’Challa had. The locs give him an irresistible edge to his symmetrical features nonetheless. A sheet covers most of his body, but you notice some keloids along his shoulder that put you off.

Moving the sheet carefully, you notice they travel a long ways down his torso. Did T’Challa do this? No, couldn’t be, these are healed scars, right? How did he get them in such abundance? As you move the sheet back, you notice a necklace laid across his chest with a ring on the end. Deja vu hits you as you reach for it, picking up the ring to study it. Your mind flashes back to the ring that T’Challa has, the one that is on his hand as he caressed your belly while wounded. Why would they have the same ring?

Quicker than you could react, Erik’s hand snaps out from the sheet to grab your wrist hard making you yelp.

His face is maniacal as he sits up pulling you towards him. “Hey princess. Bout time you brought your ass back around here.”


	10. Chapter 10

Your heart pounds in your chest, Erik’s grip is tight around your wrist.

“You s-shouldn’t do this.  All I gotta do is call someone and-and it’s over!.”  You say this, but your quivering voice makes this statement sound the least threatening.

Erik just grins wide, looking towards the lab.  “That’s fine. After I kill you, ain’t nothing stopping me from taking out whoever else I can on this floor.  I got nothing to lose, what about you?”

Your mind goes from your pregnancy to T’Challa to Shuri to Queen Mother and the Dora.  Erik couldn’t take them all out without help but you didn’t want to risk one life.

“What do you want from me?”  You ask through gritted teeth.

“You’re gonna get me to see T’Challa.  He owes me, whether his ass wanna accept it or not.”

“What does he owe you?  I don’t know anything about it.”  You say, tears being to form and spill from your eyes.  

“Shut the fuck up!”  Erik says in a low hushed voice with daggers in his eyes.  “Let’s say it’s family business. Nothing that concerns you, you just a pawn in the plan.”

Family business?  You think back to what Tavia told you, about his being T’Challa’s cousin and gunning for the throne.  

“You are T’Challa’s cousin?  Tavia isn’t making shit up?”  You ask incredulously.

Erik chuckles menacingly.  “That bitch running her mouth off to everybody again?  I told her ass about that, but she ain’t lying.” Erik pulls his ring off his chest.  “This was passed from my grandfather to my daddy, and then to me. I know T’Challa got one too.”

You shake your head.  “They won’t believe you.”

Erik’s grip tightens on you again.  “I don’t need them to believe me. I just need him to meet me so we can negotiate.”

“Why should he?”

Erik laughs.  “Well let’s just say, if he don’t, your pretty ass won’t have to worry about nothing but what you’re wearing to the funeral.  I’ll decide whether it’s yours or his in a minute.”

You look behind you hoping someone has passed at this point to break this up, but you are left disappointed and at a loss for what to do.  “Just tell me what you want so I can get away from you.”

Erik climbs out of bed, assembling some pillow under the covers quickly.  “First of all, get that out your head, thinking you bout to get away. Second, look out there and see if anyone coming.”

You slowly turn and walk toward the edge of the space separating his room from the hallway, looking one way and the next.  Did the Dora take a lunch break or something? Maybe you got up too early this morning. Turning back to him you shake your head.

Erik nods.  “Aight then, come on, you takin me to see Tavia’s  big mouthed ass.”

Erik walks past you, trotting down the hall like he was taking a jog through the park.  You follow behind, the elevator was only a few feet from where he was located. In the distance you can see Shuri working on something on one of her lab tables, moving images along a holographic wall.  It would be nothing to call out to her, get her attention. As Erik hits a button to call the elevator, your voice is on the cusp of doing just that.

As the elevators open, a figure in red and gold adornments looks casually at Erik for a moment, which proved to be a moment too long.  Once Erik notices her, he springs forward subduing her with his forearm in her throat. He replaces it with his hand, dragging her forward and around to choke her.  Her eyes meet yours as you stand frozen in fear, vision blurring. The Dora’s eyes flutter back and shut as her sputters cease and body slumps in his arms. Dropping her, he grabs her staff pointing it at you.  “Come on then. I ain’t got all day.”

You walk over the Dora’s body, not sure if she is dead or just passed out, to stand next to Erik’s imposing body.  As the elevator travels downward, your kimoyo beads start to vibrate and trill loudly, amplified by the enclosed space.  T’Challa is calling, presumably looking for you.

Erik looks you up and down.  “It’s an alarm clock.” You lie.

“I wouldn’t answer that.  You ain’t in no condition to talk right now.”  Erik says looking at you like he dares you to try him.  

The ringing stops, and your bracelet feels heavier for it.  Your lifeline cut, you feel a sharp pain in your gut causing you to topple forward.

“Stand up, the fuck is wrong with you.”  Erik barks, poking you with the staff.

“Stop, please,  I’m not feeling well.  Can you blame me??” You plead.

Erik kneels down, whispering in your ear.  “The quicker you realize I don’t give a fuck about you and your feelings, the easier this will be.  Trust me.” He grabs your arm to bring you to standing. Once again your bracelet goes off.

“And you need to shut that shit off.  It’s annoying the hell outta me.” Erik demands as the elevators open to the holding area.  Erik walks out, kicking the Dora to the side as he makes his way to Tavia’s cell. You drag the Dora out, feeling for her pulse.

“Tavia!  Where you at girl?”  Erik shouts, meandering down the hall.

“Baby!  Is that you?!”  Tavia’s voice excitedly.

You continue to look over the Dora, thankfully her pulse met your touch but she was still knocked out.  You hear banging and buzzing in the distance before you see Tavia and Erik embracing.

“Ohh, I knew you would be ok and come get me!  I knew you could do it baby!” Tavia squealed, wrapping her arms around Erik’s neck, breaking only to smother his face with kisses.  Erik wasn’t even holding her or anything, just standing there taking it, but loving it all the same until he grabbed her hair, pulling her face off him.

“You been talking about me behind my back?”  Erik says gravely.

Tavia has a look in her eyes that seemed both excited and terrified.  “What do you mean? I been wondering if you’re ok, and where you been.  That’s it-”

Erik jerks her hair, pulling her head back further and making her yelp in pain.  You get up, walking over to him. “Leave her alone!”

You were barely five feet from him, but his arm span traversed the distance, sending your face flyin sideways with a smack.

“I told your ass I don’t fuck with you, you get that?  I’m with my girl right now.”

Tavia looks down at you nervously.  “Come on Erik, don’t be like that. She just lookin out for me.”

“She bein a nosy bitch is what she being.”

Tavia rubs his chest tryna calm him down when your beads go off yet again.  This time it is Shuri.

“If you can’t turn that shit off I will.”

Erik stomps over to you, twisting your wrist.  “Fuck! Get the hell off me!”

“Erik, stop!”  Tavia yells out, but she might as well have been talking to the wall.  He takes the beads off of you, scratching you in the process. You watch, still clutching your stomach, pain echoing louder as he throws them to the ground.  Using the blunt end of the staff, he crushes the beads to pieces.

Erik straightens up, nostrils flaring.  “Where’d they put my shit?”

Tavia is visibly shaken.  “Here, I’ll show you the spot.”  Tavia walks ahead of him, looking down at you with an apologetic look in her eyes.  She mouths to you asking if you are ok, but you look away, concentrating on how you would get the hell out of there.  If she really cared, she’d take something and bust him upside his head instead of trailing him like a lap dog. The Dora next to you begins to stir, making you feel momentary joy as you crawled over her.

“Hey!  Are you ok?  Are you hurt?”

She flutters her eyes open looking at you, beginning to sit up.  “What am I doing down here?” She rubs her neck, breathing raggedly.

You look behind you as the sound of glass smashing  alerts you of their progress.

“You have to get out of here.  Tell T’Challa, Shuri, somebody I’m down here and Erik is up.”

“The antagonizer?”  She says, getting up slowly.  

“Yes, the one who fought T’Challa.  He’s going to make demands and use me for bait.  I doubt he’ll want anything to do with you, especially now that you’re awake.”

She looks around.  “I can take him now.  Where is my staff?”

You take her by the arms.  “He took it. Please, don’t stand up to him, we don’t have much time.  Get out of here! Get back to then upper floor!” You walk her to the elevator, calling it up and loading her on, you promise her it will be fine.  Not too soon after the doors close and the lift is gone, alarms are set off.

Erik comes bounding around the corner, clothed in his regular threads, checking the ammo in a large, futuristic looking handgun.  Tavia carries one similar.

“Damn, feels good to feel something deadly in my hands again.”  He looks over to you, face instantly drops as he pops the barrel up in your direction.  “Where the fuck she go?”

You hold your hands up.  “She just left, I couldn’t stop her.”

He walks up to you, pointing it straight in your face.  “Why didn’t you holler? Call me? I didn’t hear shit from you?”

You hesitate to answer.  “Are we really a team here?  What happened to not giving a fuck about me?”

Erik doesn’t respond, rearing his hand back to whip the guns handle right against your forehead, busting your old wound from the car crash outside the club.  

You double over in pain now from your head coupled with your stomach, you aren’t sure how much more you can take, until you here the cocking of a gun.

Looking up as you wipe the blood from your eye, you see Tavia pointing a gun in Erik’s direction.

“Erik, you can’t keep hitting her like that!”  Tavia says, voice quivering. You have never heard her sound so weak and feeble.

Erik is smiling like she’s offering him a pot of gold instead of a bullet.  “Whatchu gonna do with that then, huh?”

“The hell it looks like I’m doin!”  Tavia shrieks, moving her weight back and forth nervously.

Erik takes a small step.  “You know this gonna be all over soon, right?”

Tavia blinks tears from her eyes glancing at you.  “What’re you talking about?”

Erik takes another small step.  “I gotta act like this, you know me!  I told you things gonna get rough, right?”

“But not like this Erik!  You almost killed somebody!”

“Almost.”  He says softly holding up a hand in surrender.  “You know if I wanted to kill, they’d be dead. I’m just trying to make sure no one gets in our way.”

Tavia shakes her head.  “I don’t want this anymore.”

Erik cocks his head to one side.  “You don’t wanna be my queen? Rule beside me, eating the finest foods you ever have, dressed in the baddest clothes this country got to offer.  Look at (Y/N) here.”

Erik plucks you up by the collar, your toes dangle a couple inches off the ground as he holds you by the scruff like a puppy, making you choke.

“ERIK!”  Tavia screams, steadying the gun on him again.

“Nah!  Don’t fuckin scream at me!  You see this?!” Erik looks at you with a wild expression, holding your weight by one hand like it was nothing.  You could feel your eyes going cross as you become lightheaded, the alarms sounding off in the distance sound farther away as you lose control of you breathing.

Erik continues maniacally.  “This the kind of shit you could have, you should have!  These Wakanda threads don’t break for shit. Hold up to the most extreme conditions and stress…”  He has the nerve to hold you up a little higher, making you squeak when you mean to shout.

Tavia is a wreck watching you.  “Erik, put her down!” She says with little conviction left in her.

Erik looks back to Tavia.  “She’s taking our dream away, baby.  You know that? I told you all this shit in here is rightfully mine.  I was never given a chance to take it. This is it!”

“Just put her down…”

“DID YOU HEAR WHAT I SAID?!”  Erik barks at her viciously. Tavia jumps, almost dropping the gun.  Holding it steady she nods.

“I’ll put down mine when you put down yours.”  Erik says menacingly. Tavia looks at you squirming in his grasp, fighting for air.  You catch each other’s gaze and you shake your head at her, hoping she would take the shot already and end this all now for the both of you.  Erik is no good for anybody, as a King he would for sure kill more people and you wouldn’t survive to see your child grow up, much less be born.

Tavia keeps her eyes trained on Erik as she lowers the gun, to your dismay.  In tandem, as she lowers it to the floor, Erik lowers you slowly. How his arm hadn’t given out is a mystery to you but he keeps your toes just grazing the floor until Tavia has the gun laid down and hands off of it completely.

“Ok, Erik, now-”

Before Tavia could answer Erik drops you and comes across to snatch up Tavia’s throat.  It happened quicker than either of you could react. Erik backs her up against a wall as she squirms to break free.

“You been getting bold haven’t you?”  Erik sneers.

Tavia coughs and whines.  “Erik...you aren’t….like this…”

“Nah!  That’s the problem you have, but Imma tell you straight.  This is me! This is who I am deep down, my true self and it feels good.  Don’t it?”

“No...you’re hurting me…”

Erik cocks his head off to the side with feigned concern.  “Hmm. You liked being choked before.”

You eye the abandoned gun on the floor, contemplating taking it up but you don’t know the first thing about operating a gun.

“And (Y/N)!  You take one finger to that gun, I’ll snap baby girl’s neck like a twig and beat your ass silly.  Don’t play with me.” He says with such calm, so eerie how he could describe vivid violence like an itinerary to his day

“Tavia, I’m sorry!  I’m sorry about whatever made this happen.  You’re too good of a friend to me, I know. Just please, for me and for the future, forgive me.”  You plead. One thing you notice from their exchange is that Tavia has an obvious grudge over your moving on up with T’Challa.  You never rubbed it in her face but somehow she got secondhand jealous and the worst scenario is closing her windpipe as you speak.  

“Awww that’s nice.”  Erik says flatly, letting Tavia’s neck go abruptly as she crumbles to the ground.  Erik kneels in front of her coughing, holding her face to meet his square on. “Now don’t make me shout again, aight?  You remember how I taught you to shoot right?” Tavia nods. “Well, just be ready for that. Training is coming to real life.  These damn alarms is making my head hurt, let’s go tell them what’s up. Help (Y/N) up and escort her to the elevator.” Erik instructs formally.  

Tavia does as she is told, making her way over to you after retrieving her gun.

“Tavia…”  You sob, unsure how to act because you aren’t sure who your friend is to you anymore.

“Shhh, get up.  Are you ok?” Tavia asks in a rush to bring you to your feet.

“Really Tavia?!”  You exclaim in a loud whisper.

“Shh!  Just shut up!  He’ll fuck with you less that way.  What about your stomach?” Tavia looks down at your hand clutching your cramping midsection.

“Like you give a shit.”  You groan as you both join Erik in the elevator, the doors close in front of you as you all ride up.  But before you all reach the main floor, the elevator stops abruptly.

“Erik Killmonger, you have one minute to come the lab floor and still have a chance at living to see another day.”  T’Challa’s voice says over the intercom, sounding furious.

Erik just laughs.  “That ain’t my damn name.  Just put the damn elevator in motion again.”  You look at him with confusion. That’s what you all have been calling him, why is it now all of a sudden not his name?

T’Challa talks again.  “Is (Y/N) with you?”

Erik looks you up and down.  “She might be. You can’t keep tabs on your girl in your own house?”

“(Y/N)?  Say something, I need to hear you.”  T’Challa sounds desperate as he speaks now.  The Dora were quick to let him know your whereabouts to prompt the alarm.

“YES!  I’m here Chacha!”  You cry out. Just knowing he has some hand in this possible rescue is giving you a false sense of relief.

Erik snorts.  “Chacha? Oh man, he put it on you, huh?  My nigga, listen. This all wasn’t supposed to go down like this but your people put a hurtin on my plans so now we here.”

“Has he hurt you?”  T’Challa asks.

“AYE!”  Erik barks.  “I will if this box ain’t ascending in ten seconds.”

Erik doesn’t like to be ignored, you learned.  A moment of silence passes before the elevator is set in motion.  It felt like an eternity had passed before you all finally make it to a floor.  The door slowly rolls open to show Ayo, Okoye and other Dora and some Border Tribe flanking T’Challa with Shuri, Queen Mother and others in the far background.  

T’Challa’s eyes find yours and his face instantly falls, hardening with shock as he takes a step towards you.  Your heart begins to flutter at the sight of him, you were saved! Next thing you know, you feel cold metal on the side of your cheek.

“Ah ah, playboy, chill with that.  We ain’t here for a reunion, we here to talk, remember?”  Erik says.

The Dora square up, their vibranium spears wailing with each spin as they prepare for a directive.

“You put that down.  There is no way we can talk when you have a gun to someone’s head.”  T’Challa says through his teeth.

Erik scrunches up his face.  “For real? I think that’s when the best deals are made.  So, let’s talk turkey, cousin.”

“You are from no family of mine, blood or not.  This is despicable what wreckage you have caused!”

“I ain’t caused shit!  Klaue gave the orders, me and the others followed.  I been tryin to come home for years now.”

“What home?”  Shuri yells from the background.  “You have no rights here, there is no one here to claim you!”

Erik shrugs.  “Yeah, you right about that one, princess.  However…” Erik kicks your knee in, making you shout in surprise until the barrel of his gun was shoved in your mouth.  “...I’m finna claim what’s mine today.”

The Dora yell out in Xhosa making T’Challa raise his hand as he walked closer to Erik.  “Whatever you and Klaue have planned for Wakanda will fail. If you know anything about us, you know that we will not let it happen.”  T’Challa glares.

Erik looks at him sideways.  “Klaue ain’t even in the picture no more, dawg!  He out like a light, straight to hell from where his race came.”

“Liar!”  Ayo shouts.  “We left him at the car crash, he was barely clinging to life after I stopped the car!”

Erik chuckles at her.  “That’s cute of you to do that.  Klaue wasn’t dead quick enough. When your king got the wind knocked out of him, he called me over telling me to take him out of there.  Fuck him and his commands, I had what I was looking for, we were done. Two to the head, one in the chest, find his body and you’ll know.  You’re welcome.”

This caused a murmur between the Wakandans.  W’Kabi steps from behind his Border Tribe brethren.  “Is this true?”

T’Challa shakes his head.  “Erik, that does not make things-”

Erik pokes your inner cheek roughly with his gun.  The metal tastes horrendous, and you hope you could throw up.  Maybe it would fuck up his gun. “Don’t call me that. That’s not who I am here.  This the motherland, I have a name that ain’t from a colonizers hand-me-down. You wanna know?”

T’Challa looks at you, looking tearful.  “(Y/N)-”

“SHE GOOD!  We talkin! Ask my name!”  Erik shouts.

T’Challa’s eyes are practically engulfed in flames.  “A name does not make you worthy-”

“T’Challa!”  Queen Mother parts the crowd in front of her stepping forward.  T’Challa turns to her but she pushes him away gently, staring at Erik as if in a trance.  

“Queen Mother, don’t-”  Before Okoye could finish, Queen Mother Ramonda raises her hand to silence her.  It is like watching a child try to climb into a lion’s den. The danger is so imminent as Erik has let none of his ferocity down, but does not make a move towards Ramonda.  You can see that she is looking at the ring around his neck, standing mere inches in front of him. She even dares to reach out for it.

“Where did you get this?”  She asks, her eyes wide with wonder.

Erik doesn’t say a word.  Ramonda picks the ring off of his chest, staring at its details.  You can hear a pin drop, the group has gone so quiet. Then she asks, “Who are you?”

“I am N’Jadaka, son of N’Jobu.  The man your husband killed and basically left me for dead.”

If a gun wasn’t in your mouth your jaw would’ve dropped.  So he was telling the truth!  Ramonda makes a small yelp sound as she holds her head and stumbles backward.  W’Kabi catches her. “This cannot be!”

Erik nods.  “Hey Auntie.”

W’Kabi walks a distressed Ramonda over to a Dora to take her away.  T’Challa walks up to his face swiftly. “You are using chaos to get your way and that will not happen here.”

“I think it already has.  The chaos been done 25 years ago cuz of your daddy, don’t blame this shit on me.  I’m just coming to collect and you can have your whack ass girl back, but this country?  Nah, you don’t deserve it.”

“You take that gun off of her or I will myself.  You won’t hands to fight with when I am done with you.”  T’Challa threatens.

“Oh oh!  Easy! My finger already halfway on this trigger.  Make me nervous...I can get a little sensitive down there.  Don’t get no teeth marks on the tip, baby girl. I don’t like that shit.”  He looks off to you with fake pity. “But you give me a shot at the throne like I ought to, then we good.  You beat me, it’s no harm and no foul. I’ll be a honest loser.” He puts his hand over his heart.

T’Challa thinks it over, mouth pursed with worry as W’Kabi comes up to him.  “You should do it.”

“W’Kabi, this is my decision to make.”  T’Challa snaps at him.

“I know that.  But think about it.  He comes in here after nearly killing you, has taken out a known opponent of Wakanda, has gotten past our guards to break out his comrade and take hostage your love, you need to gain some control here.”

“You don’t think I have?!  The fact that he is still standing here alive is mercy enough!”  T’Challa retorts.

“You’ve got this T’Challa!  Give him the fight he wants!”  Shuri yells as a Dora holds her back.

“Shuri, please!”

“I know you can.  He won’t leave us in peace otherwise.  You’ve got this.” Shuri looks worried but defiant.  T’Challa steps away from Erik pondering the deal.

“I won’t allow her to be in bondage with your comrade as we fight.”  T’Challa says.

Erik finally withdraws the gun from your mouth as you spit out the taste.  “Oh that ain’t no problem. You can hold on to her for collateral.”

“What!?”  Tavia shrieks, and just as quickly Ayo punches the blunt end of her spear into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her as she crumpled to the ground, dropping her weapon.

“Stand up and walk!”  Okoye demands of Tavia who tries her best to stand.

“I’m sorry, aight?”  Tavia whimpers.

“You hush unless you want another!  Forward!” Okoye barks watching Tavia walk on with ayo before looking to Erik.  “And you...will be escorted to Warrior Falls immediately.”

Erik walks on, tucking his gun behind his and following the others.  

T’Challa bounds his way over to you.  “How are you? Do you need aid? Can you stand?”  His hands travel over your face as he surveys your reopened wound on your forehead.  “He will pay greatly for this. He could never diminish your beauty but I will kill him for trying.”  You feel tears rush over you as forget your pain, but this doesn’t make T’Challa feel any better. “Umhle, please, speak to me.  Shuri!”

He calls but she is two steps away.  “I’m here. Stand her up, I’ll look her over.  Are you feeling any pain in your stomach?”

T’Challa lifts you to your feet.  “I...did earlier. But not now.” Your hand feel over your abdomen for confirmation.

“Ok, I still need to make sure everything is ok.  T’Challa, you go on to the fight, I’ve got her.” Shuri takes you by the arm.

“The fight?  He can wait out there until he drowns, I’m not leaving her unattended.”  T’Challa fumes.

“She will be attended to, because I will be doing the attending!  If you don’t go out there, you don’t know what he might do if he thinks you’re backing out of it.”

T’Challa looks to you silently, holding your hands tightly in his.  “(Y/N), I will not go if you tell me not to.”

You shake your head.  “That’s not fair…” You say with a quiver in your voice.  Of course you didn’t want him to go, but how dare he give you that proposition.

“It’s not, but I am weak for you.  This is not the time for me to be from your side.  Our bean has been through too much, I couldn’t bear losing them or you.  It came to close to that today.”

You nod, teardrops soaking the back of your hands in his.  “I know, it was scary, not gonna lie.”

“And I want to know everything he’s done, so the punishment is swift.  I have no qualms with putting him away on such horrendous charges.” T’Challa starts to press something into his kimoyo beads but you stop his fingers from moving.  

“Please.  At least...entertain his ego.”  You say quietly.

T’Challa looks at you in confusion.  “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that I will not allow Shuri to look me over without you there.  But you have to answer his challenge. He thinks he has a shot at the throne, then give him this chance.”  Your anxiety begins to build and you rest your head against his chest, allowing him to hold you close. “You took him down before, you can do it again.  There’s no doubt in my mind. And maybe I want to see you beat his ass my damn self, selfish as that may seem.”

T’Challa’s chest jumps as he chuckles.  “I have no problem with that.” Pulling away from you, he looks you over once more.  “You are sure you feel fine to be there?”

You nod.  “With all things considered we are fine I think.  But Shuri, I wouldn’t mind a bandage for this hit I took before I go.”  T’Challa holds your head in his hands one more time, eyes searching your face for any inkling of doubt.  You wouldn’t let him find it. You believed in him, as much as the easy way out appeared more comfortable.  God help you all if he fails. His lips find yours making you buckle a little. It takes everything within you to part his lips and ask him to stay instead, but you bask in the kiss all on its own, keeping steady to the faith in his strength so you and him could have a peaceful world to raise your child together.

T’Challa pulls from you, handing you off to his sister.  “Ok, take care of her. I’ll make sure things don’t start until you have entered, but take your time.”

You watch T’Challa walk away as you head to Shuri’s lab to get stitched up.  Shuri puts in a sequence into her kimoyo beads that seem to be frustrating her.  

“What’s wrong with your beads?”  You ask.

Shuri sighs deeply, shaking it off.  “Nothing, actually. Just the person I’m trying to contact is dumb with them.  If they got it, hopefully they’ll be here for the fight. T’Challa could use some extra support.”


	11. Chapter 11

Sitting in Shuri’s lab, you get a moment of peace as she cleans your wound and works a salve over your gash that hardens to a comfortable gel-like bandage to hold your skin in place.  

“That should do the trick.  Should’ve put that on you before.”  Shuri says, removing her environmentally safe gloves.

She hands you a canteen of water and some bread for you to eat.  “Thanks.  It probably would’ve been just fine if it wasn’t for a certain disturbance.”

“Oh yeah, life is funny that way.  And just so you know, your vitals still look good.  Everything seems normal from what I can tell.”  Shuri pushes some options on her interactive wall.

You swallow hard in surprise.  “You didn’t even hook me up into anything or poke me or anything this time!”  

Shuri smirks, looking back at you like a grandmother about to school the youth.  “(Y/N), don’t forget where you are.  Things aren’t the same here as America.  Now some poking would be nice to get a full scope but we don’t have time…”  Shuri studies her kimoyo beads, saying something under her breath as she walks away.

“Where are you going?”  You ask, finishing up your snack before you get up from the table.  The flip of your vital records disappearing from the wall in front of you as you walk over to an opening positioned right across from the falls.  The Dora Milaje have Erik in cuffs, awaiting the start and appearing as cool as ever standing in the rushing waters.  T’Challa is nowhere to be seen just yet.

“Don’t worry yourself over that.”

You turn around swiftly at the sound of a melodic voice carrying beautifully across the lab.  Donned in a green leather outfit, bantu knots crowning her youthful face.  Nakia looks as if she’s never known a day of stress in her life, floating atop all the issues of the world.

You clear your throat, feeling diminutive.  “Uh, well, I wasn’t.  I am just trying to get myself prepared for what is to happen.”

Nakia purses her lips.  “Has anyone explained the ritual that is about to take place to you?”

You shake your head slightly.  “Just that there is a fight...whoever wins is King.  Right?”

Nakia holds her hands in front of her, the only sign of anxiety reading on her.  “That is the short and sweet version, sure.”

Her knowledge began to irritate you.  “I’m sorry, but...who are you?  You aren’t dressed like the Dora and I just wonder how I should address you properly.  You weren’t here for the big raucous earlier.”

Nakia looks at you with sincerity.   “Oh, I know.  I rushed as fast as I could when word circulated, however.”  Nakia closes the gap between the two of you holding a hand out but stops short of touching your face.  Your head moves away from her hand involuntarily.  “I am very sorry for overstepping.  I just...how did he do this to you?  I thought he was under surveillance.  How did he get past the Dora?”

You touch your head lightly near your wound.  “It wasn’t something anyone was expecting, that’s for sure.”  You laugh a little too hard, feeling the soreness around your throat.

“Bast, were you choked?!”  Nakia leans to view your neck.  “You have bruises-”

“Nakia, I really don’t want to talk about it right now.  Sorry, just...Shuri is supposed to be down to escort me to the falls and that’s all I’m focused on.”

Nakia nods with a slight bow.  “Of course.  You’re still early in your pregnancy, I understand.  Shuri is notorious for her impulsive fashion changes-”

You stammer over her to cut Nakia short.  “Wait, wait.  You know I am pregnant?  Was there a, like DECREE told about this that I missed out on?”

Nakia blinks a couple times in surprise of your reaction.  “No but T’Challa told me in confidence-”

“How do you know him?  Are you family?”  You ask, voice rising slightly.

Nakia sighs.  “No.  We really shouldn’t dig into this so deeply-”

“Ok!  I am ready!  Sorry, my braid was not cooperating…”  Shuri adjusts her braided bun and she adjusts her embroidered and leather bound corset marching down her winding staircase before looking up and reading the room.  “Uhh...are you two ok?”

You sigh exasperatedly.  “I was talking to...Nakia, but I’m confused.  She knows everything about me, but I know nothing of her.  T’Challa told her I am pregnant so I imagine she is something special here but she won’t tell me!  Shuri, would you tell me?”  

Nakia starts.  “(Y/N), let’s-”

“I said SHURI!”  You exclaim, holding your stomach to remind yourself of what is still most important.  You take a few deep breaths and Shuri hustles to your side, holding you.  

“She is a family friend.”

“And that is all!”  Nakia says desperately.

“T’Challa and Nakia grew up together, since they were babies they knew each other.  He still confides in her from time to time, it’s only naturally he would fill her in on your condition.”

You begin to calm down slightly.  “I know, I know.  God, I’m just...so tired…”  You feel the crash of embarrassment smack into you as Nakia an Shuri shush you with reassurances.  You appreciate the confirmations that you are indeed not crazy and just being a normal, stressed out, hostage survivor who is pregnant with a genetically enhanced monarch of a secretly advanced country.  Regular, day to day stuff.

Nakia, Shuri, and a few Dora Milaje take a heliplane over to the Falls; across the plains, over the canyon, toward the sunset.  The beautiful golden rays against the pinkish sky juxtaposed your impending dread.  What if T’Challa got hurt really, really badly?  Maimed and no longer King all because of you?

Exiting the heliplane, Nakia leads you and Shuri off, heading straight to Queen Mother who gives her a generous hug before glaring in your direction.

“What is she doing here?  This is not for her to see in her current state.  What are either of you thinking?!”  She begins to speak to a Dora with a directive before Nakia stops her.

“Queen Mother, she insists on being here.  She is of sound mind to make that decision on her own, we can’t belittle her.”

“I am not belittling!  I am protecting her because she has been through enough upon arrival here.  I would never have authorized her to be here!”  

“Mother, she is already here.  What else can we do?”  Shuri says meekly.

“Send her back!  Put her in the offices in the downtown headquarters!”  Queen Mother says through her teeth.

“Queen Mother, I am fine.”  You say with a slight smile as evidence.  “I want to support him, I want to see him through this fight.  I assured him to show up for it, I should be here watch it play out.”

Queen Mother holds your hands.  “Daughter, you don’t know what you may see.  This is a tradition passed down throughout the centuries in determining who runs this kingdom.  If he loses, you could easily be caught up in the crossfire.”

“But he will walk away.  His pride may be hurt, but he’ll push through like whomever lost before him.”

“Most of them are dead, dear.  It’s difficult for most to yield with pride.”  She says ominously as the sound of another aircraft approaching kicks up wind around them.

“Wait, this is life or death?”  You question as Shuri sets you down beside her on a rock.  “Shuri, it’s either give up or die?”

Shuri has her arm wrapped around you, rubbing your shoulder.  “No lives will be lost today.  T’Challa has you here to inspire him.  And after what Erik put you through, he won’t hold back a single blow.”

A second heliplane hovers over the water as a staircase descends.  T’Challa walks out slow and steady holding a weapon and a shield.   Nothing more covers his body save for a pair of shorts.

“Does he get any armor or something?  He can’t fight Erik with just a shield and sword!”  You whisper harshly to Shuri.  

She pat your hand, growing impatient with your questions.  “Erik will have the same things to make it fair.  No guns, no armor, just hand to hand combat.”

Okoye uncuffs Erik’s wrists, who rubs them as he sneers at T’Challa, picking up his weapon of choice.  A shaman walks toward the middle of the two of them, speaking in Xhosa.  Shuri translates to the best of her ability.

“That is Zuri, he is like the master of ceremonies.  So now, he has a bowl that is like an antidote for the powers of Black Panther.  T’Challa has to drink that.”

You scoff in frustration.  “So no he has no armor, no gun, no suit and no powers??  Shuri, this is setting him up to fail!  These rules can’t be bent?”

Shuri looks at you.  “Have a little more faith than that, (Y/N)!  He earned the throne this exact same way before.  He knows what he is doing.” Shuri cheers T’Challa on as he coughs and strains from the effects of the antidote.  You were already regretting having to see him like this.  The pain has already begun before the match has started.

“Agh!”  you squirm from a sharp pain in your side.  Queen Mother hears you.

“Do you need to exit?  I’ll call Ayo over-”

“No!”  You say, holding up a hand and breathing deeply.  Your face softens when the pain subsides as you look up to see T’Challa looking back at you mouthing if you are alright.  You nod with a thumbs up, clapping and cheering him on as Zuri gives a final word, striking his staff down to initiate the battle.

What follows is an assemblance of might and anger between the two.  Each strike of metal against metal made you jump a little more than before.  Erik was too strong with his hits, hammering down on T’Challa with an unnatural agility for his size.  T’Challa was not weary, intelligently moving on the defensive and wearing Erik’s acrobatics down.

“He’s got this…..He’s got this….”  You whisper softly, rubbing your stomach subconsciously as you watch in awe of his fighting skills.

“You’ve got this T’Challa!”  Shuri whoops from the top of her lungs.  Queen Mother is speechless as she grips Shuri’s hand for support.  

Erik makes move to stab T’Challa, but T’Challa saw this move coming, using his shield to strike Erik’s hand back before lunging toward Erik’s face.  Erik leans away but moves back too soon, catching the edge of T’Challa’s blade against his cheek.  Erik stumbles back slightly, touching the wound in surprise.

“Yield!  This can be settles another way, if you would only yield!”  T’Challa shouts.

“I ain’t a ‘yield’ nigga.”  Erik snarls, coming back with a barrage of strikes for T’Challa to block.  It’s like the fight has started all over again, with Erik having so much energy come back to him.  

“Snap out of it T’Challa!” Shuri screams.  Her directive makes you nervous.  Is he about to lose?

Erik and T’Challa are toe to toe going at it when all of a sudden T’Challa is brought to one knew, exclaiming in pain.

You jump to your feet.  “No…”

T’Challa raises his shield block a second attack, before standing again.  A series of blocks ensue before you hear T’Challa wail again in pain, pushing Erik back.

“T’Challa!”  You yell out without regard to what’s happening.  Shuri takes you by the shoulders.  

“Shuri, he needs to yield.  He can get a do-over.  I don’t want to see him get stabbed”  Your thoughts are interrupted by a gasp from the crowd as you see T’Challa on his hands and knees in the water.  Just as T’Challa begins to stand, Erik’s foot meets T’Challa’s face.

“NOOO!  YIELD, PLEASE!  STOP IT NOW!”  You scream out as Nakia holds you back.   Shuri is frozen, face blank as her mind is in another world.  Queen Mother grabs ahold of Shuri before wailing and pleading herself.

“This ya King, huh?  This-”  a swift kick to the gut interrupts his taunts.  “THIS YA KING?!”

T’Challa is at his breaking point, completely out of it as he struggles through the pain to get up, much less defend himself.  Erik readies himself over T’Challa, hovering the blade above T’Challa’s neck like a golf club preparing to tee off.

“No.”  Queen Mother utters.

“Bast, please.”  Shuri sobs.

Nakia’s arms leave your body as her hands shoot up to her mouth, covering her mouth in horror for what was about to happen. Why wasn’t T’Challa yielding, you thought.  Is he actually going to accept death for his position here?  Wakanda can’t possibly survive under Erik’s crazy hand.  And you had no intention on raising a child who would never know their father and his culture.

You aren’t sure when you started or even if you were truly moving.  But once the scene of T’Challa about to be beheaded came closer to you in slow motion.  

“Stop!”

You couldn’t feel your heart beating, your breath becoming labored.

“Stop her!”

As the water splashed around you, your jaw stretched almost to the point of dislocating.  What came out is a blur, but before you know it, Erik was turning to face you, sword trained in the air.  Your body suddenly felt cold under his glare as his hands released the sword, turning towards you.  You hadn’t stopped yet, you wanted to collapse over T’Challa to protect him, to call an end to the fight once and for all.  You didn’t care about tradition or royalty, he was your love and you weren’t about to watch him die.

Your gaze fell to his back, T’Challa was just beginning to crane his neck back and look towards you when it happened.  Erik didn’t let you pass him by before he sent a wave of pain to your gut.  You fell into his arms weakly as your breath was forced from your lungs.  Your vision darkened at the edges as you felt your body being forced backwards, landing in the cool waters.  Erik’s image stands over you smiling as you feel hands grabbing your arms and dragging you back.  You still can’t think coherently about what has just happened to you, or if you were even alive at the moment.

Sound pops in and out as your ear had filled with water upon your fall,  but a spattering of shouts made it to your understanding as your consciousness waned. Some man in fur swings a long club over Erik’s head sending him down with an awful thud.  Your eyesight fades in and out as you see T’Challa.  One blink, he’s up.  Next blink, T’Challa is straddling Erik rearing his elbows back to force his fist practically through his face.  Final blink, the fur man pick T’Challa up under his arms.  You aren’t sure if a new fight is about to begin, but no one seems to stop him as the Dora carry Erik off and others along with Queen Mother and Nakia try to calm a fervent T’Challa...

\----

“Come on, Beanie Baby, he won’t be long.  Please behave!”  You walk around Wakanda’s natural landscape with your beautiful, yet fussy infant in their stroller.

T’Challa lays his hand on yours resting on the bar of the stroller to stop you from walking further.

“Do you think maybe we should go back home?  I don’t think-”

“Beanie needs some fresh air.  Three weeks in doors is long enough!”  You assert, unbuckling your baby to pick up.

T’Challa pets their head as they suckle on their fist, whimpering.  “Hungry, are we?”

On cue, your baby begins to wail again, unsatisfied with their current state.

You tut at T’Challa.  “Why did you have to bring that up?  I’m a walking refrigerator 24/7.”

Your baby’s crocodile tears run down the sides of their face as their brown little face twist in frustrated toothless wails.  You work your breast from your specially made shirt, angling your swollen nipple to your baby, whose mouth eagerly seeks its nourishment.

T’Challa holds your back, observing.  “That’s better, isn’t it?”    He coos, holding your baby’s hand as they suckle on you.

“Yes, Beanie Baby!  Baba and Mama love you so much.”  You say sappily in your baby’s face.

T’Challa stands back a little, looking at you.  “Are you ever going to say the beautiful name we picked upon birth?”  He says sarcastically.

“Ohhh, one day.  We know the name, it’s been blessed and sung and praised by the whole country.  But to me they will be my Beanie Baby until I am old and bent over.”

T’Challa pushes the stroller as you walk with your feasting baby.  “What you said about Bean needing some fresh air...you meant yourself as well, right?”

You sigh, looking off into space.  “Of course I meant me.  I have been soooo stir crazy in the palace.  I mean  don’t get me wrong, you’ve made it so comfortable for me and I love every minute with the baby and of course I had to heal up cuz I pushed too hard during and I swear I’m trying to be a good mother but-”

“Eh, eh, shhh…”  T’Challa stops in his tracks, turning to you, placing a hand on one side of your face.  “You are exciting yourself too much.”

You feel tears beginning to brim over as your baby unlatches from your breast.  T’Challa takes the whimpering baby over his shoulder, patting them firmly on the back as you clothe yourself.  

“I know, it’s been like that lately.”  You wipe your tears away sniffling.

T’Challa’s eyes soften in understanding, standing close to you.  “You don’t have to hide your feelings, share them with me.”

“I know, I will.  I’m sorry.”  You sniffle.  The baby lets out a hearty burp that breaks the emotional tone of the scene.  You ‘aw’ as T’Challa smiles, congratulating Beanie in Xhosa, holding them up and kissing their cheeks greedily.  

Setting the baby back along his shoulder, bouncing their little body along as he pushes the stroller along.

“You know, when we first met, what I enjoyed about you?”  T’Challa asks.

You puff out your cheeks in thought.  “Uhh, that we both enjoyed coffee?”

He smirks, shaking his head.  “No, not even close.  What I like is how bold you are.  How open you are to letting me in, despite our differences or whatever doubts you may claim to have, you never showed your worries to me.  It seemed to come natural to you.”

“Yeah, I just really wanted to talk to you that badly.  You seemed nice enough, not like the creepy regulars.”

“Phew, thank Bast for that.  However, the same thing I like about you, can also be something that leads to problems between us.”  He adds.

“What’re you talking about?”  You ask.

“Like all you just told me.  For three weeks you’ve been suffering and I haven’t been any wiser for it.  I never knew and that is scary.  I mean I knew you were tired, we all have been, I just didn’t expect the possible psychological toll on you.  Don’t be polite with me, be open and honest as you always have been.”

You nod, mulling over his words.  “Yeah, I think I’d call myself the truthful one in the relationship.”

T’Challa groans.  “I swear, you know everything now, and you’ll know everything as it comes from here on out.”

He smiles at you, pausing your walk to take your hand with sincerity.  A soft snore from your baby fills the silence.  T’Challa gently lifts the baby to lay them back in the stroller.  

“Chacha, I want to be honest with you.  But I’m hard headed so, just be patient with me.  If you can do that, I’m sure I can find the words to tell you how I feel quicker than usual.”

“We share a life, and that includes our struggles.  I will not let you fall long as I am by your side.  I won’t have it oh!”  

You laugh out loud.  “You promise?”

“On a ton of vibranium, I promise.  I will promise you when we get married next month and all of Wakanda can recognize you as Queen.  I will promise you when we have more children, and they have children and we live on in the ancestral plane.  You two are the most important beings int my life.  I have nothing if I don’t have you both”

You look into T’Challa’s eyes, enamored by his words.  The peace of the lands surrounding you both, the little life you both cared for more than anything in the world, and the love and respect between a King and a girl he loved from a coffeeshop around the way.  It’s a fairytale that writes itself.

“I guess that’s good enough, I’ll talk it over with Beanie and let you know.”

T’Challa kisses his teeth.  “You are something, having secret meetings with the baby.  Soon as the baby is weaned, I will be the favorite.  Mark my words.”

“Don’t worry, you’re still MY favorite after all.”

You reach your hands to T’Challa’s face, holding his face to study his features you loved so much, fingers finding his widow’s peak.  You both embrace sweetly under the high noon Wakandan sun, peacefully loving each other over your first born, anxious for the life you have in store with the new Kings in your life.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.  Wake up…”

\---

“Uzole!”

Your head pounds as you begin to stir.  Your mouth feels dry as you begin to speak but no sound comes.  You’re about to try and sit up when your vision focuses on two figures standing at the far end of the room.  

T’Challa faces towards you but is looking down at the floor as Nakia’s back is turned to you.

“There is no need for her to hear that now, you stay by her side until she wakes and remind her what she means to you.   That’s it.”  Nakia says.

T’Challa wipes his faces before stuffing his hands in his pockets, looking up at the ceiling.  He looked good for what he went through at the fight, but he was worn down, you could tell.

“I will not lie.  As much as it pains me, I will not omit information from her again.  She does not deserve that.”  T’Challa whispers.

Nakia lays a hand on his chest.  “I promise you, one day will not hurt her.”

“And if she asks outright?  What do you expect me to say?”  T’Challa’s gaze snaps into place in Nakia’s direction, jaw tight in frustration.

Nakia’s hand falls as she shrugs.  You feel a soreness in your back that becomes more annoying than waiting for the conversation to end.  Pushing off the bed you bring your torso forward, calling T’Challa’s attention to you.

“umhle?  You are awake, glory to Bast!”  His stride brings him over in seconds as he adjusts your pillows behind your back.

“Ugh...I need…”  You croak.

T’Challa’s eyes widen in anticipation.  “What is it?  Are you in pain?  Do you have a fever?   Nakia, get Shuri at once!”

You shake your head slowly.  “It’s not….I’m thirsty.”

T’Challa sighs in satisfaction as he knows just what to do for you.  A pitcher of water sits on your bedside table, dripping with condensation.  He picks it up, pouring it slowly into a cup as you wait for him to sit beside you, holding a straw between your lips for you to take a drink.

Nakia clears her throat.  “I let Shuri know you have awakened.  She’s only a call away if you need.  Good to see you back with us.”

Nakai smiles quickly before leaving the room.  T’Challa looks you over, petting your hair gently, kissing your forehead with sweet pecks.

“Chacha, please.”  You whine, weak from exhaustion.

He sits backs taking your hand in his, studying your knuckles, fingers, nails intently.  “I can’t help it.  I promise to behave, I’m just excited to see you.”

“I’m glad to see you too.  How are you?”

T’Challa runs his hand along your forearm, massaging the softness of your skin.  “When the Heart Shaped Herb gives me back my power, it heals as well.  No harm done.”

“You won?”  You ask with weakened excitement.

T’Challa nods.  “I did, my love.  With a little help, if I remember correctly.”

“Mm, yeah.  Some big guy with furry shoulders came, right?”  You close your eyes for a moment.

T’Challa looks at you confused.  “You saw M’Baku?  I thought you were taken out by then.”

You shake your head.  “I was there, but I fell down.”

T’Challa’s thumb strokes your cheek.  “You remember how you fell?”

Your eyes open again.  “Not all the way.  I saw you hurt and...my stomach started to hurt...then I was in the water...floating away…”

T’Challa nods.  “Don’t think about it too much right now.”

You turn your head towards your cup of water, motioning for more.  T’Challa obliges without missing a beat.

“So are you just going to sit here and watch me sleep then?”

T’Challa shrugs.  “It’s the only thing I feel like doing at the moment.”

“That’s boring.”  You quip.

T’Challa snickers.  “Maybe to you.  This is the most excitement I’ve gotten all week.”

You scoff.  “The fight yesterday wasn’t fun enough for you?”

T’Challa pauses, looking around to search for words to reply with.

“What’s wrong, Chacha?”  You ask suspiciously.

“Nothing.  I don’t have anything to say to that.”

You take your hand away from him.  “You don’t want to talk to me, but you want to see me.  I’m not understanding you right now, man.”

“I would love to talk to you about so much, but-”

“What happened to Erik after the fight?”  You interrupt.

T’Challa stammers.  “That’s not the subject I’m looking to dig into.”

You rub your temples.  “But you are King, right?”  He nods.  “God, then he is dead.”

“What?!  Why are you thinking that?”  T’Challa asks, surprised.

“It’s yield, or death right?  Which I did not know before saying you could fight.  I thought there’d be a ref and rules.  Last thing on my mind was a death match.”

“I think it was implied when he took you hostage, death was on the table as consequence.”  T’Challa says in a low serious voice.

“Don’t take that tone with me!   I was there, I know how dire it was!”  You exclaim in anger.

“No, love, I didn’t mean to offend you.  I was just saying, I was prepared to risk my life to keep him from hurting you and Wakanda.”

“How would I go on without you? Huh?  You weren’t thinking straight to make that kind of decision.”

“You told me to go-”

“I wanted you defend yourself, that’s it!  Get some licks in for me, and keep it moving.”

T’Challa leans on his knees holding his head.  “You aren’t making sense.”

“Well maybe it’s the pregnancy talking, but I have a lot of shit to work through right now.  I want you to be able to hang in here with me while I do that.”

“I’m here, I will.  It’s just that-”  

Shuri knocks on the door, walking in at the same time.  “Hello you two!  Are you feeling good (Y/N)?”

You fold your arms.  “I’ve been better.  Your brother is being extremely annoying because he doesn’t want me to talk to him.”

“I didn’t say that!”  T’Challa whines.

Shuri smiles as she takes out a tablet to scroll through.  “Sounds a lot like him though, so I believe it.  I could open a second vibranium mine shaft for ever time he’s told me to shut it.”

“Aye!”  T’Challa scolds her.  

Shuri reaches into a pouch to pull out two containers of pills.  “Have her take the blue ones for discomfort, the red ones are vitamins.  She’ll still feel weak for a few more days.”

“Are those safe to take with the baby?”  You ask, reaching your hand out to look at the pills.  Shuri looks over at T’Challa and back to you before handing them to T’Challa.  “The instructions are these as far a frequency and overdose warnings, and the like.  I’m glad to see you’re finally back with us (Y/N).”  Shuri shoots T’Challa a look before leaving the room.

“I know she heard me...A few hours sleeping and it’s like I’ve been gone forever.”  You chuckle a little as T’Challa reads the bottles.  

“How long do I have to take them, you think?”  You ask.

T’Challa’s forehead wrinkles in concentration.  “Until the bleeding stops, I assume.”

“Whoa, what?  Bleeding?  I’m bleeding, where??”  You push the blanket from you as quick as you can muster, but T’Challa holds your hands down.

“Stop it, (Y/N), you can’t move your body too fast.”  He orders you.

You look up at him, you body beginning to fill with rage.  “Why?  Why can’t I?  What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing life threatening, just please calm-”

“T’Challa, if you tell me to calm down, I will lose my shit for real.  Now back off of me!”  

T’Challa releases his grip on your arms finally.  You glare at him as you sit up, taking down your blanket to look over yourself.  You look at your body under your gown to see purple bruising across your abdomen.

“Oh God…”  You begin to swing your legs over the side of the bed.  T’Challa comes over to offer a hand to help you up but you swat him away, easing yourself to standing.  You lose your balance quickly as your leg give out a moment, but T’Challa catches you.

“God, it’s like I haven’t walked in weeks.”  You say out loud.  T’Challa remains silent as you walk holding his hand to go to a long mirror by the adjacent wall.  You stop short catching a glimpse of yourself looking haggard.  Your hair frizzy and matted, skin pale and eyes darkened around the edges, one eye looking bloodshot.  

You felt your spirit falling as you catch T’Challa’s reflection in the mirror, looking at you with pity.  No hope in his eyes, no reassuring smile or jokey tone to make you feel less ugly than you looked.  His face told you just about everything you would’ve forced him to say.

Your hands fall in front you you as you ease the gown up, catching the hem of the garment in your hands as you lift it up past your thighs, your pelvis.  You were wearing granny panties covered a portion of your stomach.  Letting down the waistband you see the deep, angry looking bruise the punctuated the impact of what happened to you

Suddenly you realized this whole time you felt nothing.  No pain, not even a flutter.  You touch your stomach, willing for that sign, anything to tell you that it wasn’t so, you were delusional.  It wasn’t gone, they didn’t leave you yet, that you weren’t alone.  

You hear T’Challa saying something, but you can’t listen to his words.  A sensation comes from you between your legs that catches your attention but not what you hoped.  Looking in your underwear, you see a pad filled with blood.  

“T’Challa, call Shuri, uhh...I’m-I found the bleeding.”

“Umhle….”  T’Challa’s voice cracks.

You grab his arm, feeling dazed.  “The...the blood, it’s here.  We can’t lose Bean.”

“It’s too late, it’s been days since.”  He says.

“Bean...my beanie baby...I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”  You sob, tears painting your face as emotion stretched your features agonizing angles.

“You didn’t!  You did nothing wrong!”

“T’Challa!! Call somebody!!  We need help!”  You scream so loud, a couple of Dora run in to survey the situation.  When it became clear you were hysterical, 

 Shuri and a couple of her lab team members came in to try and calm you.  But there was no calm left in you to manage.  It was taken from you and left you empty.  Your hopes and dreams got the best of you, and the world repaid your ignorance tenfold.


End file.
